


In Spades

by ArixaBell



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Assorted sex scenes, Cardverse, M/M, Romance, Some angst, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:40:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 111,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArixaBell/pseuds/ArixaBell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poor peasant Alfred, struggling to care for ailing Matthew, attracts the eye of Queen of Spades Arthur. And that's just the beginning of the twins' adventure in the wartorn land.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So the request that prompted this was... pretty much just for simple smut. Then I got a hold of it and it became this epic thing. Haha, back when I started this, there weren't many cardverse fics out there. Now they're, like, everywhere... ^^; There's various sex scenes throughout, but it's more about romance and adventure. Though just to warn you, the first couple sex scenes border on the dubcon side.

From his spot on the filthy ground, Alfred smiled brightly up at the passing merchants and shoppers. Most of them ignored him, probably not even noticing him as they hurried by. Begging peasants were just an everyday part of the scenery in the busy market.

With no current potential payoffs walking by, Alfred let his grin falter as he glanced down at his bowl. Only a handful of copper coins, stamped with the leaf that was the kingdom of Spades' seal, looked back at him. Still not enough for the medicine he desperately needed to buy soon.

Alfred let out a slow breath. He was a terrible beggar, but an untrained illiterate peasant didn't have many other options. He was sixteen, and so did not have the additional piteousness of a poor child. He was relatively healthy, had all his limbs and eyes, and found it difficult to look sad and pathetic. A terrible beggar indeed.

A stall not far away was selling slabs of ham, cut right off the roasting pigs. Alfred's stomach rumbled again, and he tried scooting a bit further away as he was reminded of how long since he had had a decent meal. A kind soul had given the young beggar some bread that morning, and Alfred had nibbled on a piece, but was saving most of it for his twin brother. Matthew constantly fretted about that, but Alfred always assured him he wasn't starving.

There _were_ other options for a healthy, reasonably attractive young man that didn't require much learning, really. But nothing Alfred relished doing, and definitely nothing Matthew would allow. He could be a soldier, anybody who could hold a weapon could become a soldier. And in their homeland, the peaceful kingdom Hearts, that might have been a possibility. But not Spades. Even if it weren't for their somewhat frightening neighbor Clubs – which everyone feared would attack any day now in their quest for more land and power – Spades was in a constant state of warfare with the hated Diamonds to their other side. Their were constant rumors about what had started the animosity between the two kingdoms, but the real reason was long since forgotten. There were rumors, also, regarding the relatively recent animosity toward _everyone_ of Clubs, and even speculation that it was the beautiful Queen rather than the terrifying King who had the real thirst for blood.

But whatever the reason they were at war with Diamonds, or a likely candidate for invasion by Clubs, Spades was not the best place to become a soldier simply for the pay. It would be suicide, and where would Matthew be then?

The other option for a healthy, attractive young man... well. That was only marginally more appealing than joining the soldiers, and Matthew would kill him instead of the other army.

If he ever grew desperate enough, Alfred could always sell one of the few valuables they had left. They both had spectacles to correct their blurred vision that could fetch a decent price. Alfred held on to their father's pocket watch, and Matthew had their mother's silk scarf.

But they would have to be really desperate to sell any of those.

A highborn young woman in blue paused near Alfred; he gave her his most charming smile, bringing a light blush to her cheeks. She reached into her coin purse and tossed one into his bowl without even looking at it, then hurried off, giggling. Alfred glanced down into the bowl, blinking in surprise at the silver coin that now rested on top of the small pile.

Rich and hormonal adolescents always had been his most charitable prospects.

Alfred quickly counted the money again, grin widening when he realized he had enough. He sent a silent thank you to the giddy noble girl and stood up with his bowl, stretching out the cramps in his legs. Alfred all but ran from the market, toward the apothecary he went to nearly every day. It was a small, dark shop, air thick with smoke and shelves lined with colorful bottles and bags of herbs.

The shop's balding owner smiled pleasantly when he spotted Alfred. "Made enough today, hm?"

"Yeah." Alfred piled the coins onto the counter.

The man's gaze flickered over the pile, mentally calculating, and he nodded. "Good!" He plucked a ready made bundle of herbs from under his counter, dropping it into Alfred's waiting hands. He also handed back one of the copper coins. "More than enough, in fact."

Alfred sent another round of silent thanks and well wishes to the lady and her silver coin. He carefully tucked the medicine and extra money away, thanked the man, and hurried off. He paused only long enough to purchase an apple before rushing home to the small, single-room house he shared with his brother.

Flames were dancing in the house's fire pit, illuminating the room in cheery golden light. Matthew was curled up on his mat, wrapped in a blanket, reading – a skill he had picked up early on, but Alfred never had the time nor patience for. The people of Spades were not as keen on maintaining a library of books as in their homeland of Hearts, and Alfred had become a master of salvaging discarded literature for his brother.

Matthew rarely left the house, there wasn't much else for him to do.

"I'm back." Alfred squatted down beside him.

Matthew set the book aside, lifting his violet eyes with a smile. Alfred's were blue; it was the one physical difference that separated them, aside from their tendency to style their hair differently. As children, they had grown used to others, including their parents, peering into their eyes before addressing them. "Sooner than usual," he said in his quiet voice. "You didn't do anything unpleasant this time, did you?"

"Of course not! It's just the luck of who walks by, and today it just happened to be a lady who must have found me charming."

"I can't imagine why."

"Quiet, you." Alfred fetched the pot of water and hung it over the fire. "How are you feeling today?"

"Same as usual."

At least same as usual wasn't worse. "What're you reading about?"

"Romance. A handsome knight woos a queen who's trapped in a loveless marriage..."

"Oh, what's the queen?"

Matthew chuckled. "A woman. It's from outkingdom."

"Oh, right..." Sometimes Alfred forgot that lands outside the four kingdoms kept their royalty gender-specific, and men were kings and women queens. It seemed like such an odd concept. In their kingdoms, the heir to the throne became King, regardless of gender, and their spouse became Queen.

Spades was currently ruled by only the Queen. He was a distant cousin to the heir, betrothed to him at a young age. He was only around fourteen when they were married, five years ago. That was right before the horrific, mysterious illness had swept through Spades. It disappeared as quickly as it started, but left many bodies in its wake. The King and Queen, as well as their son, were all victims of the plague, leaving the new Queen on his own, and to this day he still had not remarried nor had an heir of his own. Same-sex pairs used specially bred servants to have children, but it was frowned upon with the unmarried.

Alfred's parents had also died of that illness. The vast majority of those who caught the disease died, while the very few who had it and survived – like Matthew – were left permanently ill and weak without proper medical treatment. The medicine Alfred struggled to buy kept the worst symptoms at bay, and Alfred tried not to think about the fact that Matthew would be almost normal if they could afford proper care.

While the water heated, Alfred tugged out the food he had acquired that day. He set the chunk of bread and apple down on his own blanket. "Looks good, huh?"

Matthew nodded. "Did you eat?"

"I had some bread!"

"Yeah right. Cut those in half."

"But-"

"Exactly in half."

Alfred huffed a sigh. "All right, all right..." He fetched a small knife and sliced the bread in half, and the apple into quarters. He handed half of everything to his brother. "You need it more..."

"Hardly." Matthew nibbled on a piece of bread. "You need more energy than I do. I'll die a lot quicker if you starve to death..." His gaze went distant as he stared into the fire, and Alfred winced. Matthew hated reminders of his weak, dependent state.

Alfred carefully filled a mug with the boiling water, and dumped the pouch of herbs into it. He let the water absorb the oils for a few minutes, then removed the pouch and handed the mug to his brother.

"Thank you," Matthew murmured before taking a sip. The apothecary added some mint to improve the flavor a bit, but Matthew still grimaced. Drinking the same thing almost daily for five years would make anything taste bad though, even if it were tasty to begin with.

After finishing the medicine, Matthew set the mug aside and lay back on his mat, pulling the blanket tightly around him. Alfred ran a hand through his brother's wavy hair, then scooted over to settle down on his own bedding. He removed his glasses and set them aside, then settled down and let his eyes close. He was lulled to sleep by the crackle of the dying fire.

* * *

The next day was considerably less lucky. Dark clouds had rolled in during the night, and a heavy rain pounded the kingdom. Alfred was huddled in his begging spot, soaked and freezing and muddy, his bowl almost empty. The weather kept everyone at home, denying those in the market customers or benefactors. The other beggars gave up and left, so at least Alfred was the only one for the customers that did show up.

And at the end of the day, the vendors were more generous with their leftover goods. Matthew did not get any medicine that day, but he could manage one day without, and they ate well that night.

The day after, Alfred almost cried when he saw that the situation had not much improved. There were more shoppers that day – people had to buy goods _some_ time – but they did not pay much attention to beggars. Two days, and Alfred still did not have enough money for medicine. It would be a rough night, and Matthew would be lucky to be conscious in the morning.

That was why, as the cloudy sky started to darken as the hidden sun set, Alfred found himself staring at the coin purse of a nobleman. The man was standing at a jewelry vendor's booth. Maybe he had forgotten a ladyfriend's birthday, or some other disaster that had sent him out to purchase decorative trinkets in the less than stellar weather. But he looked like the type who wouldn't even miss a few coins.

He was taking his time in browsing the rings and bracelets. He himself had some expensive looking decorations adorning him.

No, he wouldn't miss a few coins. He would certainly never have to sit in the rain and mud all day in the hopes of keeping his brother alive.

Making up his mind, Alfred inched closer to the fop. He carefully reached toward the dangling pouch that practically called out to him. He very rarely stole, and hated having to do it, but...

Alfred gripped the pouch and gently pulled it free. Heart hammering so loudly he was afraid it would give him away, Alfred tucked the pouch into his pocket, grabbed his bowl, and got to his feet. The man was still examining a silver ring.

Alfred walked away, quickly but calmly. His heart refused to settle down, but it was accompanied by giddy relief.

He had only reached the marketplace's entrance when he was brought to an abrupt halt by a hand on his arm. Gulping, Alfred turned around, and found himself facing a group of blue-clad guards.

The one holding his arm smiled grimly. "Come along, thief."


	2. Chapter 2

"In the name of the four gods, _shut up_!" The guard flung Alfred into the dungeon, glaring at him with exasperation. The other guards followed after him, looking just as annoyed.

"No!" Alfred surged forward, only to be grabbed again. "You can't lock me up, dammit! You _can't_!" Panic was started to well up inside him as he looked around the dungeon with wide eyes. At the barred cells... "My brother-"

"I said shut up! You've been hollering since we grabbed you!"

"If you don't want to be locked up, lad," one of the others said, sounding more jovial than the first, "you probably shouldn't pick pockets."

"I didn't have a choice! My br-"

The first guard backhanded Alfred. "Listen, you-"

"What's going on down there?"

That voice came from above. Everyone, Alfred and guards alike, looked up at the spiral stairs.

"Damn," one of the guards muttered. "It's the Jack."

Alfred grimaced. The Jack was essentially the head servant – in charge of all servants, guards, and... well, everyone who wasn't a member of the royal family. He pretty much ran the palace.

Footsteps descended the stairs, until the voice's owner came into view. His features were exotic, not of the four kingdoms. His black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he wore a long blue coat over a flowing white... well, Alfred couldn't come up with any word but _skirt_ , though he was sure there was an appropriately manly term for it.

"What's with all the noise?" the Jack said, eyeing the group. His accent was as exotic as his features. "I could hear you all the way from the guardhouse, are you torturing someone?"

"No, of course not, Yao," one of the guards said quickly. "Just an uncooperative prisoner is all."

"Oh. Well, if that's all-"

"You can't let them lock me up!" Alfred jerked his arm out of the guard's grip, stepping closer to the Jack. "My brother will die, I have to get back."

Yao regarded him curiously. "Why do you say that?"

That was a better response than the guards, at least. "He's sick. He's a survivor of the illness five years ago, he needs medicine. It's already been a couple days!"

"He's a thief," the guard who seemed to have acquired a personal vendetta for Alfred said. "Took a coin purse from an innocent man."

"An innocent rich man," Alfred muttered. "I didn't have enough money to get Mattie's medicine. I won't steal again, but please let me go, he won't be doing well tonight!"

Yao crossed his arms, frowning, head tilted as he watched Alfred. "Can you prove it?"

That was definitely promising. Sagging in relief, Alfred nodded. "I can take you to him. He's at home." The very thought of being locked up, of Matthew just being left home alone, confused and worried, until he died... Alfred's eyes stung.

"All right. I will accompany you to your house. You had better not try anything."

Alfred could have kissed Yao. "I won't!" He resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at the guard who disliked him, settling for a smirk as he stepped away from them. He hurried out the door they had dragged him in through that led outside, eager to put as much distance between himself and the dungeon as possible.

"Don't move too fast!" Yao said, striding after him. "Stay close."

"Sorry." Alfred walked slower, and the Jack fell into step beside him. A lamp lighter was just finishing up his nightly task, and a juggler entertained passers-by. Alfred might have stopped to watch any other night, but he barely paid attention to anything but his destination. "Oh. Thanks, by the way," he said after several silent moments. "Why did you listen to me when they wouldn't?"

He saw Yao smile slightly out of the corner of his eye. "Not everybody who works in the palace is a power-hungry hooligan who doesn't understand what it's like to be in a difficult situation."

Alfred smiled as well. He liked Yao. Even if the fellow was rather... pretty, for somebody who was supposed to be in charge of all the kingdom's soldiers. And was that a tiny plush bear clipped to his jacket? "I almost never steal," he said, wanting to defend himself further. "I usually earn enough for the medicine begging. I was getting desperate today."

"I understand." Yao nodded to a few people who greeted him. "So you have stolen before."

Alfred stared at the ground, at his own striding feet. "A long time ago."

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

Yao made a thoughtful 'hmm' sound. "So you have been caring for your brother all by yourself since you were eleven?"

"Yeah."

"I see."

They fell silent. Alfred wondered if it would be rude to ask where Yao was from. But he was terrible with geography, so anywhere outside the four kingdoms would be meaningless anyway, so what was the point?

They walked the rest of the way in silence. As soon as they reached the door to Alfred's small house, he burst in in a mild panic he had worked himself into as they had neared. "Mattie?"

The fire had gone out, a small lamp the only source of light in the room. Matthew was laying in his usual spot, shivering. He was paler than usual, body covered in a light sheen of sweat despite his shivers.

"Mattie, I'm here." Alfred knelt beside Matthew, swallowing around the lump that had risen in his throat. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

Matthew slowly lifted his head to peer at Alfred. "You're back," he mumbled. "I was worried." His violet eyes widened as they focused on the man standing behind Alfred. "Who...?"

Alfred glanced over his shoulder in time to see Yao bow slightly. "I am Yao, the Jack of Spades."

"Jack...?" Matthew's gaze returned to his brother. "Al, are you in trouble?"

"Um. Well, you see-"

"Forgive us." Yao bowed again, deeper. "That was inconsiderate of us to stop here first. We are on our way to the apothecary."

Alfred blinked. They were?

"Your brother is going to be working at the palace now," Yao continued.

"He is?" Matthew's eyes never left Alfred's face. Alfred wondered if he was lucid enough to notice how shocked Alfred was.

"He is. In the stables, he's starting tomorrow. Come now, Alfred, let's get going."

"Uh..." Alfred finally turned, gaping at Yao. "Uh, r-right. The apothecary!" Unable to really comprehend what had just happened, Alfred tucked the blanket tighter around Matthew. "Will you be okay here for a bit longer?" He wanted to rekindle the fire, but didn't want to take the time... He'd have to anyway to boil the water, but Yao was waiting.

Matthew nodded. "Go."

"Okay." He smoothed down Matthew's damp hair, then rejoined Yao and they left the house.

"What..." Alfred ran the Jack's statement through his head. "What just happened?"

Yao glanced over at him, smiling. "You are working at the palace now. In the stables. You don't mind, do you? One of our stable boys is eager to become a soldier instead, we could use a replacement."

"But..." Alfred swallowed. A job? He was being offered a job? "I..."

"You don't need previous experience. Someone will show you what you need to do tomorrow."

"But..."

"How much does the medicine cost?" Yao was pulling a pouch out of his coat.

"Oh." Alfred told him.

"Hmm. I can see how that could be difficult for a beggar." Yao pulled coins out of his bag. "I'll pay for it today, you can owe me."

Alfred numbly held a hand out to accept the coins. "Oh, right. I'll pay you back."

"Well, I was joking, but whatever you prefer. You'll be paid twice that amount daily, how does that sound?"

Alfred finally stopped, gaping at the smaller man in shock. "What?" Twice that amount... every day? He'd be able to buy medicine every single day, with plenty leftover?

It was hard to even wrap his brain around.

"We should hurry," Yao said.

Alfred nodded dumbly, then grabbed Yao and pulled him into a hug.

"Ahh..." Yao chuckled, patting Alfred on the back. "You're welcome." He pulled away.

Alfred sniffed and wiped his eyes. "Y-yeah. We should hurry." He all but ran the rest of the way to the apothecary.

They purchased the medicine and wasted no time, heading immediately back. On the way, Yao gave Alfred instructions about where and when to show up, then bid him good night and they parted ways, the Jack returning to the palace.

Matthew was still conscious when Alfred returned, at least, staring at the small flame of the lamp. "Al...?" He looked up, still wide-eyed and stunned.

"Yeah, it's me. Yao left." Alfred set about getting another fire going.

"You're really... working?"

"Can you believe it?" Alfred still couldn't.

"How...?"

"We ran into each other today. We talked, and he told me that they need a new stable boy, and... yeah. I ended up with a job." The tinder caught fire, and Alfred sat back to watch it spread. "It pays twice what the medicine costs daily."

Matthew just stared at Alfred, as if such a concept was beyond him.

"I know," Alfred murmured. "We'll always have enough. I'm not sure what to think about that, either." Thank the gods for having a sob story, he supposed. For all he knew, Yao had lost someone to the plague as well, making him even more sympathetic. "Assuming I don't screw it up."

Matthew watched his brother fetch the teapot, starting to weakly smile. "You won't."

* * *

He didn't actually get to go in the palace, but simply entered the field that housed the stables through a gate. Alfred wrinkled his nose at the smell as he walked into the building, hoping that was something he would get used to. Many stalls lined the interior, with plenty of them holding equine occupants.

Alfred wandered over to a small dapple horse and reached out to pet her nose. "Hi there. Um, I guess I'll be caring for you guys from now on." He peered into the stall and groaned. "What did you do in your bed? Oh, I'm going to be spending all day cleaning up..." The horse just nuzzled him, snorting on his shirt.

A couple stable hands eventually showed up, and gave Alfred a brief explanation of his duties. As he had expected, cleaning played a big part of his job. But also providing food and water, grooming the horses, and exercising them.

Not that it would matter if shoveling manure was all he did, he would do it for the money they had promised him.

One of the boys stuck close to Alfred for the rest of the day, following him around to make sure he was doing everything correctly. At one point he handed Alfred a brush, pointing to the end of the stable they usually started at and worked their way back. Alfred headed over there, grinning at the sight of the brilliant white horse that graced the first stall.

The horse, however, was not particularly impressed by him. She gave Alfred a flat stare as he approached, her nostrils flaring.

"Don't take it personally," the stable boy – Peter – said when Alfred dodged a kick. "She doesn't like anybody but her owner." However, Alfred couldn't help but notice that she tolerated Peter. "Take her out for a run, she's probably feeling restless."

As Alfred led the horse outside, he was surprised to discover just how much time had passed, the setting sun painting the sky gold. He would have to collect his pay soon – his pay! – and return home. But not before picking up medicine and something to eat.

They would have plenty of money for food. And clothes, and new books, and... It was still hard to imagine.

Lost in thought as he watched the white mare race around the fenced in field, Alfred didn't notice green eyes watching him.


	3. Chapter 3

Matthew looked up from his bowl of rice, blinking at the pile of books that had been plunked down in front of him. "Eh?"

"Look at those!" Alfred squatted down, grinning. "I saw them and thought of you and had to get them."

Matthew wiped his hands off on his blanket and tugged the books close, running his fingers over them. "The Queen's Secret. Sounds naughty. And... a cookbook?"

"I liked the pictures..."

"Of course. A History of Clubs?"

"Is that what that is?"

"The pages look great. And the spines. Are these new?"

Alfred beamed. "I got them at the book store."

"You did?" Matthew groaned. "Al, we can't afford new books..."

"We can now!"

"You can't just spend all your money!"

"Why not? I'll get more tomorrow."

Matthew took a deep breath. "After you buy my medicine tomorrow, you're coming home and giving me the rest of the money. I'm coming up with a budget."

"What?" Alfred visibly deflated, running his fingers over one of the books. "I thought you'd like them. They're good books."

"You don't read."

"The shopkeeper said they were good."

Matthew patted his brother's hand. "They look good. Thank you. But we need to start budgeting and being careful with our spending and saving for the future."

"If you say so." Alfred scooped himself a bowl of rice and settled down beside Matthew.

"Did you wash your hands? You know what you do all day..."

"I washed, _mother_."

Matthew's lips quirked. "How _was_ work today?" He knew _he_ was enjoying it, knowing his twin was perfectly safe, doing an honest day's work, in no danger of being assaulted or arrested or murdered. Probably.

"Oh, fine. Princess thought my hair was food again."

"Whose horse is that, anyway?"

"I don't know. I'm hoping a little girl."

Matthew bit into a slice of bread, licking butter off his lips. "How is Peter?"

Alfred rolled his eyes. "The same. A little brat now that he's used to me. Insists he's an adult..."

"Ah. And Yao?"

"I haven't seen him lately."

"Have you met anyone new?" Matthew couldn't help it. Even with his daily medication, he was unable to leave their home, having to live vicariously through his brother.

Alfred shrugged, mouth full of rice. "I see stable hands around that I don't know yet. And soldiers. I haven't _met_ anyone new the last couple days."

"Oh."

"I'll let you know if I do." Alfred nudged his brother. "So tell me what the book says."

"Which one?" Matthew glanced toward the book Alfred pointed at. "The cookbook...?" He blinked at Alfred, then shrugged and picked the book up to find a nice recipe to read.

* * *

Alfred hummed as he dumped the water into the trough, then set the empty bucket aside. The horses he was in the middle of exercising out in the field trotted over, thirsty after their run. Alfred picked up a brush and moved over to groom them as long as they were standing still.

In the week he had been tending to the stables, a few horses in particular had started standing out to Alfred as his favorites. He had grown rather fond of a chestnut mare named Dreamer, who was being a bit of a nuisance by trying to nuzzle him while he was attempting to brush her, losing interest in her water. Alfred laughed, rubbing her nose.

"Silly thing. You know it's hard to brush you when you do that?

"She's a good girl, isn't she?"

Alfred jumped slightly, whirling around to face the intruder. He sagged in relief when he saw it was just another stable boy, helping groom Dreamer with a brush of his own. This one was a bit more nicely dressed than the others, even wearing a long blue coat and a ridiculous white bow around his neck. The silliest things, though, were his huge bushy eyebrows.

Then he looked up, and Alfred was struck by his piercing green eyes. "Oh. Yes, yes she is." He returned his brush to the shining coat.

"So you're Alfred," the stable boy said. "I've been hearing about you."

"Oh yeah?" Well that was a silly thing to say, of course the other stable boys had heard about the new one.

"Yes. I'm sorry about your brother. Though he's lucky to be alive, hm?"

Alfred nodded. "Very lucky." Judging by the way the other fellow's emerald eyes went distant, he was probably remembering somebody who hadn't been so lucky.

"Sick for all these years... I don't think I could stand that. I'd have ended it ages ago."

Alfred reacted without thinking, lashing out with a fist and catching the shorter man on the chin, knocking him backward. He looked up at Alfred in shock, raising a hand to his injured face, eyes wide. Alfred could only gape back, heart hammering. _Why did I do that? I'm so stupid! He'll tell what I did and I'll be in trouble and get kicked out and I can't afford that! What do I do?_ He thought he was about to keel over when the other man simply smiled.

"I'm sorry."

"Huh?" Alfred blinked.

"I didn't mean to imply anything about your brother."

"Oh." Alfred rubbed the back of his neck, staring at his feet. "S'okay. Sorry for hitting you." He was such an idiot. This job was everything, he couldn't screw it up! He had to be on friendly terms with his coworkers. "Well, I'm Alfred. Oh! You already knew that."

"Yes." He smiled again, running his brush over the horse's flank.

"Well." Alfred barked a nervous laugh. "Now that you're here, you can help me shovel shit!"

He flicked a glance over to the shovel, which had flies buzzing around it. "I'd rather not..."

Some help. Alfred shrugged. "Okay." He resumed working, but his gaze kept being drawn back to the other man, mesmerized by his unusual eyes.

And annoyed by the way those eyes were always focused somewhere around the area of Alfred's ass. He'd be tempted to complain about him, if that stupid punch weren't hanging over his head. The unspoken blackmail kept him from seriously considering it. Every time he grew irritated by the heated looks directed toward him, he focused on the red mark on the other man's cheek and grew even more annoyed with himself for effectively ruining any chances of getting the fellow thrown out.

"Well." Alfred coughed. He was finding himself increasingly eager to get away from those heated eyes. Nevermind how pretty they were. "I guess I should get these girls back inside."

"I guess so. And afterward, perhaps you could-"

"Hey!"

Saved by the brat. Alfred turned to face the rapidly approaching boy, grinning in relief. "Hi, Peter!"

"Sorry I'm late, I-" He cut himself off, almost falling over as a result of his abrupt halt. His sea-blue eyes grew wide. "Y-Your Majesty...!"

Alfred blinked, staring down at Peter's horrified expression in bafflement. "Your what?" He followed the horrified gaze. The green-eyed man just looked amused, still brushing the horse.

Peter loudly gulped. "Your Majesty, what are you... why are you... er..."

Alfred looked back and forth between them. Peter was playing an elaborate joke. The Queen would not be assisting in the stables, what a ridiculous idea.

What did the Queen look like again? Alfred desperately sought through his memory for any mention of a description.

But then another stable boy noticed them, and quickly dropped to his knees on the grass.

Alfred's blood ran cold as he stared back at the man. The Queen...

He was dead. This time, he really was going to die.

The Queen just smiled. "Would you come with me, Alfred?"


	4. Chapter 4

The world spun as Alfred followed the Queen into the palace. His mouth had gone dry, body cold. He wasn't even able to marvel at the simple fact that he was _entering the palace_ , he was so busy nearly hyperventilating.

He was being led to his death. What was going to happen to Mattie? Nobody would want to take care of him, even if Alfred requested it before he was killed.

How was it going to be done? Axe, noose, arrows, sword?

Weren't executions usually held outside? Alfred glanced around, taking in the marble floors and tapestries he had been panicking too much to notice. The large windows, some made of colored glass. The ornate lamps hanging from the ceiling. The plush blue rugs. The blue color popular among Spades nobility, Matthew had once explained, came from an expensive dye unique to the kingdom.

Why had the Queen been out mucking around in the stables, talking to Alfred without revealing his identity, anyway? It didn't seem fair that Alfred was going to be executed when he had practically been tricked.

"In here."

"What?" Alfred looked up, realizing the Queen had stopped at a door. He walked back to him, swallowing. "You have a nice place," he said in a weak attempt at flattery.

"Thank you." Arthur, Alfred remembered. The Queen was Arthur. Arthur pushed the door open and stepped into the room. Alfred quickly followed, letting the heavy door slam shut behind him. The room was decorated with a blue rug, a couple large beds with fancy brocade bedding, dresser and desk and paintings and...

 _Man. Even the guest rooms are a million times better than our home._ Alfred had to assume that was the room's purpose, judging by the unlived-in look it possessed.

Arthur strode over to the window, hands clasped behind his back. "That medicine will only go so far."

"What?" Alfred rubbed the back of his neck. His racing heart was finally slowing down to a decent pace as death loomed less imminently.

"Your brother's medicine. It will never do more than it already has. It keeps the worst symptoms at bay, but does not actually make him better."

"I know that..." Alfred frowned.

"It would take proper medical care to accomplish that."

"What are you-"

"Would you like that?" Arthur turned, a small smile tugging at his lips. "He could live here, have access to the best medical care in the kingdom. In a matter of weeks, I'm sure, he could be up and walking about freely..."

Alfred's jaw dropped. "You... you want... why?" The very thought of Matthew being given real medical care...! He would give anything for that. He would run to the executioner's block if that was the price.

"I would like you both to stay here," Arthur said, stepping closer. "You are very handsome, Alfred, and it has been a while since I have had a bed mate..."

Alfred took an unconscious step back. "A bed mate," he replied numbly. The words swirled around in his head, taunting him. That had always been an option, of course. The other choice aside from begging. He had never been willing to sink that low.

But it wasn't quite the same, was it? Being a 'bed mate' of one man – a monarch, no less! – was quite different from being a street whore, bedding any man who would have him, diseased or violent they may be.

But it was still... it was still being somebody's toy. It was still being trapped, used for his body, degraded...

And Matthew's health was still worth it.

Matthew... If Arthur was attracted to Alfred, it seemed reasonable he would be attracted to his identical twin as well. "My brother is off-limits."

Arthur nodded. "That's fine."

"And I don't want him to know about this. I still want to work in the stables." If Matthew found out...

"Of course. You'll be paid the same, on top of living here and having free access to my doctors and chefs."

This couldn't be real, could it? Alfred had been a beggar a little over a week ago. Now he was being offered a life of nobility? Matthew would be healthy?

All because a horny royal thought Alfred had a nice ass?

It was hard to breathe again.

"I know." Arthur turned back to the window. "You're probably feeling like I did when my parents told me I would be marrying the heir to the throne."

But he had always been noble. Being told you were going to be rich _and_ a ruler instead of just rich and distantly related to a ruler was not _quite_ the same as being told you're going to be well off and practically a noble instead of dirt poor and always on the brink of starvation and dying of disease...

"Why me?" Alfred finally said. "You could have sex with anyone you wanted. I'm hardly the handsomest man in the kingdom"

"How am I supposed to know why I was drawn to you?" Arthur sat down on one of the large beds. "So I take it we have a deal?"

"Yes." How could he say no?

"Good. Come here."

Alfred blinked. "What, _now_?"

"Why not now?"

"I... I'm still getting used to the idea, and..."

"Come here."

Alfred stepped closer. Oh, it was the Queen, he really should be more polite... "Oh, um, yes, Ar – My – Your – um..."

"You may call me Arthur in private." He smirked. "It would sound a little awkward otherwise. But only in private, it is Your Majesty otherwise."

"Right." Alfred dropped onto the bed beside the Queen, pulse picking up speed again as the other man scooted closer. At least Alfred liked boys, it would have been really awkward otherwise. He closed his eyes as he felt cool, slender hands trail over his collar bone before setting to work unfastening the buttons of his shirt.

"You will need better clothes," Arthur murmured as he dealt with the buttons. "I will have to add the service of my tailors for you both into the deal."

Alfred was beyond being surprised by any new additions. It would take a lot to distract him from the fact that he was currently being stripped. His breath hitched when those fingers skimmed over his newly bared torso.

"Strong," Arthur said, "but too thin. I guess that's to be expected. A few more years to grow into your body, some good food, hard work in the stables, you'll have a perfect body."

Alfred gulped, then shivered when one of his nipples was pinched. He still didn't look. Soon warm breath was bathing his neck, soft hair tickling him, and then lips were ghosting kisses over his throat.

"Sensitive," Arthur said. "Are you a virgin?"

"No," Alfred lied.

"All right."

"D-don't you want me to wash up first?"

Arthur chuckled. "I was watching you all day, you fed and exercised and brushed the horses; it's not like you're coated in manure. And I rather like the sweat."

"Oh."

Arthur's hands returned, tugging Alfred's pants down. The laughter that followed was not appreciated. Alfred opened his eyes with a frown.

"Sorry." Arthur cleared his throat. "Your shorts have hearts on them."

"I'm _from_ Hearts," Alfred said.

"I figured, from your accent. That's, um, that's cute." Alfred squeezed his eyes shut again when the shorts joined his pants on the floor, leaving his body bare for intense green eyes to stare at. Nothing happened for a moment or two, but Alfred didn't need to be able to see to feel the hot gaze roaming over his body. Then, finally, Arthur moved in a rustle of clothing. At the sound of fabric hitting the floor, Alfred peeked an eye open, unable to resist a glance at the stripping Queen.

Arthur's body was pale and somewhat slender; his light skin and soft, uncallused hands as much proof as his fancy clothes that he had lived a privileged life in the palace. Curious, Alfred splayed one of his sun-darkened hands against Arthur's chest.

"That's right," Arthur said, reminding Alfred of the way a stable boy sounded while encouraging a horse. "You can touch me."

Oh. Arthur thought Alfred's curiosity about their skin tones was a lustful desire to touch his naked flesh. Well it wasn't, Alfred did not want to feel that soft, milky skin at all... He removed his hand defiantly.

Arthur leaned closer. "You're big."

"What?" Alfred looked down, following the Queen's gaze. "Oh..."

"One of these days, I will have to let you take me. But not today." His hands skimmed over Alfred's sides. "Turn around. On your hands and knees."

"O-oh." Mouth gone dry again, Alfred propped himself up and turned around. He mentally berated himself for being so nervous. People did this all the time, they liked it! And he was doing it for Matthew. He could handle it.

A lightly floral scent filled the air. Curious, Alfred peeked over his shoulder, and was met with the sight of Arthur dipping his fingers into a pot of oil. He shifted back around, removing his glasses and setting them aside.

Arthur wasted no time. Alfred bit his lip hard to hold in a startled yelp when a slippery finger plunged into him. He grimaced at the uncomfortable, alien sensation, and it took a lot of effort to fight off the instinctive desire to get away. He gripped the sheets as more fingers slipped in and stretched him, cheeks burning as he thought about the view Arthur had.

Shortly, the fingers were gone, and Alfred felt the hot flesh of Arthur's cock pressing against him. It dimly occurred to him that he had been so concerned about being stripped, he hadn't really gotten a good look at the other man's equipment. But he did not have long to muse about that before it was pushing unceremoniously inside him, and Alfred was biting his lip again to keep from shouting at the sudden burning pain. Blood trickled down his chin.

"Good," Arthur breathed, running his hands over Alfred's body. "So good. You're tight..."

"Haha. Yeah?" Alfred managed after a deep breath.

"Mm." His hands tightened on Alfred's sides as Arthur started to quickly thrust. Alfred buried his face in the pillow and tried to take his mind elsewhere.

It felt like it went on forever. To Alfred's surprise, it wasn't terrible the whole time. In spite of the burning pain, dull waves of pleasure occasionally coursed through him. And sometimes Arthur would reach down to stroke Alfred's cock until he forgot himself and was a moaning mess.

And then Arthur stiffened, hands almost suffocatingly tight around Alfred as dampness spread through him.

Feather-light kisses grazed Alfred's back. "I'm going to enjoy our time together," Arthur murmured, and then he was gone, leaving Alfred to shiver at the sudden burst of cold against his back.

Alfred sat up, glancing over his shoulder to watch Arthur dress. At least he looked pleased, that made Alfred feel a little less used for some reason.

"I have things to do," Arthur said. "You understand. Now I will expect you in my room every night. And whenever else I summon you, of course."

Alfred just nodded, staring down at the sheets.

"That's a good lad. Go and fetch your brother whenever you like."

"I will."

"I imagine he'll be curious about this turn of events. Just tell him we met and I liked you. It's the truth, you're just leaving out a little detail." Arthur chuckled.

"Yeah..."

"I'll see you tonight, then." In a swirl of azure fabric, the Queen was gone.

Alfred drew in a deep breath. Though he had touched Alfred, Arthur had been lost enough in his own enjoyment he apparently hadn't even noticed his bedmate had not come.

Or maybe he had noticed and didn't care. Either way, that needed immediate tending to, so Alfred reached down to finish the job himself.

Once that was taken care of, Alfred stared down at the sheets again, musing that they would definitely need to be cleaned before Matthew saw them. Or anyone else. He grimaced at the sight of the stains of oil and semen and... blood? Where had _that_ come from? Had he bit his lip that badly? Alfred felt his chin, confused. Then his eyes fell on the blood streaking his legs and he groaned. _So I'm bleeding after my first time like a girl..._ He tugged his pants on, grimacing at the pain that flared through him and trying not to think about what he was getting on his pants. Maybe he would be able to bathe and get a change of clothes? He'd have to ask. For now, he stripped the sheets off the bed, dumping them in the corner. Would he be allowed to ask a palace servant for anything? What did servants look like?

He successfully located some servants, and they were friendly and accommodating. Soon Alfred was led to a large room filled with steam from the vast sunken bath. He spent more than an hour curled up in the heated water, unable to feel clean no matter how much he scrubbed.


	5. Chapter 5

"By the gods," Alfred whimpered as he slid from the saddle. "My butt is never going to recover." His ass had already been rather sore from _other_ activities; after that admittedly short horse ride, he was pretty sure it was dead. "Stay here, okay?"

The horse he had been loaned, Daisy, seemed perfectly content to munch on the grass. To stay on the safe side, Alfred tied her to a fencepost. He patted her neck, then limped into the house.

As he walked in, Matthew spouted a stream of gibberish while staring at his book. Alarmed, Alfred hurried closer, afraid this was some new symptom. "Matt?"

"Oh, Alfred." Matthew looked up with a smile. "How was your day?"

Alfred sagged back against the wall. "What were you saying when I came in?"

"Um, I said 'Hello, nice to meet you'. It's the language of Clubs."

"Oh." Alfred made a face. "That crazy kingdom? At least learn the Diamonds language, it's pretty."

"I've been studying that one, too..."

"Show off." Alfred moved over to grip Matthew's arm. "Come on, get up!"

"Are you limping?" Matthew stared up at him with wide eyes.

"Of course I am, I rode a horse!" And thank goodness for _that_ plausible excuse. "We're going to the palace."

Matthew blinked. "We?"

"I have the most incredible luck in the world." Alfred tugged his brother up, helping Matthew wrap an arm around him. "I met the Queen."

"You... what?"

"Well, he met me, anyway. And we talked, and became friends..." Ha, friends.

"Wait, Al, what-"

"And he invited me to live in the palace. Us, I mean."

"Alfred!"

"And you'll have access to the doctors there, the best in the kingdom, so you should be fine in no time!"

Matthew pushed away from Alfred, tumbling to the ground and gaping up at him. "What?"

"Don't do that." Alfred reached for him, but Matthew scooted away.

"Alfred, what are you _saying_?"

"I'm saying that you're going to be okay!" And as Matthew stared up at him in wonder, Alfred couldn't have been happier. Arthur could fuck him ten times a day if he wanted. "You really will. I'll still get paid for working in the stables, but we won't need to spend it on medicine or food anymore because all of that will be provided. And I saw our room, it's big and fancy and we'll get nice clothes and..." He leaned over to help his brother up again. "We'll practically be nobles, Mattie."

"How?" Matthew breathed. "How has all this happened so quickly? What _happened_?"

He wished Matthew would just accept everything without pressing. Alfred hated having to lie so much. "I don't know. I'm likable, I guess. I meet the Jack, he gives me a job. I meet the Queen, he lets us live with him. Your sad story helps, too."

A long moment of silence. "How can you be so... calm?"

Alfred laughed. "Because dancing in the street like I want to won't help anything. I want to get you to the palace as soon as I can. Um..." As they emerged from the doorway, Alfred looked back and forth between brother and horse. "This will be interesting."

"I haven't ridden a horse since I was little."

"I'm not worried about what happens once you're on the horse." Alfred hobbled closer to the blissfully chewing Daisy and tried to pick Matthew up at the waist. Okay, so maybe Arthur was right, and he needed to put a bit more meat on his bones. "That won't work... Why do you have to be the same size as me?"

"Sorry." Matthew placed his hands on the horse. Alfred moved behind him and tried to boost him up without much luck; Matthew just didn't have the strength to aid him at all.

"I guess I didn't think this through too well." Alfred stepped back, scratching his head as he contemplated boy and horse.

"A carriage might have worked better."

"Yes! I'll go get a cart." Alfred grinned. "Just think, Mattie. Soon, you'll be able to do anything you want on your own."

Matthew slowly shook his head. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Trust me, you will! You won't need me at all anymore." Alfred frowned. "Well, not that I want you to not need me. I mean, I _do_ , but in a good way." He coughed. "I mean, we'll be together because we want to be."

"I know what you mean, Al."

"Okay." Alfred left Matthew in Daisy's care, hurrying off to find a cart he could hitch up to her somewhere in town.

* * *

"Why did he leave me like this?" Matthew wondered after several long moments of inhaling the fragrant odor of leather saddle and horse. He pushed away from the horse, carefully easing himself to the grass. He lay back with a sigh, shielding his eyes from the sun; he hadn't had his daily medicine yet, and it was growing more noticeable.

But if Alfred really hadn't gone insane, then Matthew wouldn't be needing that medicine anymore, would he?

It was an impossible dream. The Queen wouldn't just invite Alfred and his family to move in and make use of all the amenities the palace had to offer just because he liked him. That was ridiculous.

So what was happening?

How would the Queen have even met Alfred? One lived in a luxurious palace, the other mucked around outside in said palace's stables. Perhaps the Queen liked to ride? That seemed likely. A friendship forged over a fondness for horses.

"Now I know I need my meds," Matthew said, rubbing his eyes. "I'm starting to believe it."

Sort of. He still couldn't really believe that he was going to be _treated_. He had been practically an invalid, utterly dependent on his brother, for five years. The thought of being healthy again was, well, beyond even his extensive imagination.

He could still remember the last time he had walked somewhere on his own, at the age of eleven. His sobbing brother, trying to mop their father's face with a damp cloth and feed their mother broth at the same time, had asked Matthew to pick up some medicine – not the medicine they still used, but a worthless thing believed at the time to be helpful. Matthew had rushed into town to buy it, unaware that he was carrying the same deadly illness within him. He had almost made it home before he collapsed, leaving poor Alfred to care for all three of them for the next couple weeks, until their parents finally succumbed. Matthew had been unconscious or delirious for most of the time; he could only imagine how horrible it was for Alfred, watching his parents die and assuming the same would happen to his twin.

And Alfred had devoted his life to caring for Matthew, despite the assumption that that would be forever. Matthew had never contemplated suicide, but if he had, it would have been out of a desire to free his brother rather than himself.

"What do you think, horse?" Matthew said, still weakly covering his eyes. "Has he lost his mind? Did you guys kick him in the head one too many times?"

The horse was far more interested in the grass than answering him.

"What's the Queen like?" It was hard to tell. Matthew had read about him, of course, but every author had a different opinion. Some thought he was a spoiled brat, some thought he was a manipulative bastard, and others thought he was a decent and caring sort. Maybe a combination of all three? He supposed it didn't matter, it wasn't like they were going to be hanging out with the Queen on a regular basis.

By the time Alfred returned with a small cart, Matthew had curled up on the grass, sweating profusely in the sunlight. Alfred swore as he hurried close.

"That was dumb. I should have left you inside." Alfred tugged Matthew out of the sun. "Or at least in the shade, huh?"

Matthew smiled weakly. "I think you should fix the medicine, Al, even if they'll take care of me once we get to the palace."

"Right! I'll do that now."

While the medicine was steeping, Alfred kept returning inside to fetch a few things he loaded onto the cart. Matthew had never really stopped to take inventory of their possessions – mostly acquired in the last week – but he couldn't help but notice that everything Alfred carried out belonged to Matthew.

"What about your things?" Matthew asked.

"Like what?" Alfred set a stack of books into the cart. Matthew could have sworn the horse was eyeing the cart apprehensively.

"Like... anything?" Surely he had purchased something for himself aside from food.

"There's enough for now. I'll come back for the rest later."

"That doesn't... Sure, okay."

"Here you go!" Alfred handed over the familiar warm mug, and Matthew sipped at the hated contents, hiding his grimaces of distaste.

Not having to drink that stuff every day? Yeah right. Matthew would believe it when he saw it.

* * *

"Hey. Mattie." Alfred gently shook his dozing brother's shoulder. "We're here."

"Hm?" Matthew stirred, blinking his eyes open.

"We're here." Alfred scooted out of the cart, then helped Matthew out, holding him close. "Doing okay?"

"I'm fine," Matthew said distantly, staring up at the palace.

"You've seen it before," Alfred reminded him with a laugh. "We looked at it when we were little!"

"Not this close." Matthew gulped. "And not with the intention of going inside."

"It's pretty. What I remember of it, anyway, I was kind of in a daze." And rather worried about being killed, but Mattie didn't need to know about that.

"Will they just... let us in? I don't look too good, I need a bath and a shave and better clothes and-"

"You'll be fine!" Alfred laughed again. "And who says you need a shave, Peachfuzz?"

"What did you call me?"

"They'll let us in, come on."

The doors were opened for them with no opposition, fortunately. Not that Alfred had really been expecting a problem. Matthew fell silent as he was helped through the fancy hallway, looking this way and that at the decor, eyes wide.

He had to stop and ask directions a couple times, but Alfred finally found his way back to the room that had been assigned to them. "Here we are."

"Good gods," Matthew breathed. "This is for us?"

"This is our room." He helped Matthew to one of the beds – the one he and Arthur had not used. He was sorely tempted to give his brother the bed he really wanted to not touch again, but couldn't bring himself to do that to Mattie. Ew.

"But it's..."

"I know." Alfred smiled at him. "I'll go get our things from the cart."

"Are you sure it's okay for us to be in here?"

"I'm sure."

"I can't believe they would give this to us just because..."

"Oh, I'm sure there are various reasons for wanting us to live here." Alfred winked. "Easier for me to work at night, for one thing."

"At night?"

"Checking on the horses and whatever. Nobody else wants to."

"Oh."

There! An excuse for disappearing nights. Alfred was rather proud of that one. "Okay, I'll go now and-"

"Hello?" A newcomer knocked on the open door as he peeked in. His hair was blond, but that was the most common Spades color, and his eyes were a warm brown. He wore a white beret on his head, and the silver cross pin at his throat that denoted those in the medical field.

The brothers stared at him.

"I heard you had arrived, I was supposed to meet you." He stepped into the room, his smile friendly. "I'm Tino, one of the palace physicians."

Alfred swallowed. So it really was true. He quickly mumbled an introduction, and excused himself to fetch their things so that Tino could get to know Matthew better.

* * *

"Hello," Alfred mumbled, shutting the door behind him with his foot, wishing he could barricade it. The very thought of Matthew roaming around and spying them... That wasn't possible now, but what about when he was better? Alfred should have requested separate bedrooms for them, less suspicious when he disappeared each night, though hopefully Matthew would believe the excuse he had planted. Maybe once Matthew was well it would seem natural for them to have their own rooms? That would make things easier, even if the thought of living alone seemed strange.

"You seem preoccupied," Arthur said. He was seated atop a pile of fluffy blankets on an ornately carved bed. The rest of the room was just as fancy, almost sickeningly opulent. The Queen was already naked, pale body in sharp contrast to the ever-present blue of the bedding.

"Oh, no, just thinking." Alfred rubbed the back of his neck. He looked around nervously "Wow, nice place. Hey, are those naked people?"

"They are statues from a long-dead culture," Arthur said as Alfred stepped closer to examine them.

"Oh. Hey, look at all the books..." He moved on to the shelves.

"You like to read?" Arthur sounded impatient.

"No, I can't. Matthew does, though, and I like the ones with pictures."

"Ah. How is your brother liking it here?"

"I'm not sure yet." Alfred finally moved over to the bed, realizing it would be better to get it over with rather than stall. He still hurt, and wanted to do just about anything rather than have sex again, but... he didn't have much choice. "He's still a little stunned."

"I'm sure. He will get used to it." Arthur patted a spot on the bed beside him.

"Yeah..." Alfred settled down with a sigh.

"This outfit is an improvement," Arthur mused as he set about removing it. "Still not perfect."

"It's what the servants found in my size on short notice," Alfred said, glancing down at the plain but well-made clothing he was quickly being divested of. He hoped, once he was assigned a tailor, his outfits wouldn't become much fancier.

"What's this?" Arthur plucked out the pocket watch, peering at it. "Someone gave this to you?"

"Uh, yes." Alfred reached for it, but Arthur turned away. "My father, he was originally from Spades. That's mine."

"Hm." Arthur handed it back.

"Thanks." Alfred set it safely aside before he was stripped further.

"That's better." Arthur skimmed his soft hands over Alfred's naked body. "Hands and knees."

"Right." Alfred propped himself up, resting his face on one of the pillows that probably cost as much as he now made in a month. He closed his eyes as hands gripped his hips, letting his mind drift elsewhere.


	6. Chapter 6

In what had become routine, Alfred quickly tugged his clothes on, ignoring the way they clung to sweat and... other things. He just wanted to get back to his room and sleep, just like every other night for the past week or so since he and Matt had moved in.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." Arthur lounged on the bed, wrapping a blanket around his naked body. "Or you could stay the night..."

Alfred stiffened. "That would be suspicious. You're the one who agreed to Matthew not finding out about us."

"That I did." Arthur rolled over. "Good night, then."

"Good night." Alfred fled.

* * *

Matthew rolled over again, a sigh escaping. He peered through the dark at the outline of the empty bed nearby – fuzzy without his glasses – and frowned. Alfred still wasn't back. He hadn't been kidding about working late... How ridiculous. He really ought to be paid more if he was working more.

Matt had to chuckle at that thought. After everything the twins had been given, they really didn't deserve more – they were getting far more than they deserved! – no matter how late Alfred was working.

But still. They shouldn't take advantage of him.

The door finally opened, admitting a figure that definitely had Alfred's outline. Without bothering to undress (Eww, stable clothes in his bedding!) Alfred dropped onto his bed, face buried in the pillow. Matthew smiled and let his eyes drift shut, but they snapped open again at the muffled sound that emerged from his brother's pillow.

Was he... crying?

Alfred didn't cry. Except when he was really scared, or when he and Matthew got into an argument, but he didn't _really_ cry. Alarmed, Matthew slid out of bed and hurried to his twin's side. "Al?"

Alfred's face jerked up. His glasses were askew on his nose. "Matt?"

Matthew knelt down beside him. "What's wrong?"

Alfred just stared at him, jaw dropping. "You..."

"What?" Matthew frowned, wondering what... oh. He glanced back at his bed, realizing what he had done.

"You're _up_!"

"Yeah." Matthew's lips curved.

"Hey, sit down." Alfred tugged Matthew onto his bed. "Don't overexert yourself."

"I'm fine."

"So... all that nasty shit Tino's been feeding you is paying off?"

A small laugh escaped. "It seems so."

"And all the poking and prodding..." Alfred squeezed him close. "I'm glad."

"You're changing the subject. Why were you crying?"

"Uh." Alfred stiffened. "Was I? Oh yeah." He laughed weakly. "Oh, well, a horse is sick."

"Al..." He pretended to be tough, but he really was a big softie. "I'm sure the horse will be fine."

"I hope so."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Alfred laughed, sounding delighted. Matthew cheered up now that his twin's tears were gone. He had been worried for a minute there. "I'm just fine, Matt."

* * *

The weeks passed, leaves falling and air chilling. Matthew dutifully drank whatever concoctions Tino presented to him, and put up with examinations that sometimes grew painful. But every day he grew stronger, able to move on his own to everyone's delight.

It certainly made the nights in Arthur's bed worth it to Alfred. He endured being the Queen's whore because every day the signs of his twin's illness faded, and there was no price he wouldn't pay for that. Even as he dreamed of life outside the palace – as a soldier of a kingdom he was proud to defend, or a traveling merchant, or an entertainer; visiting his home kingdom of Hearts he hadn't seen since he was a child, or venturing out of the kingdoms to see the world – he was resigned to his fate of spending the rest of his life as a spoiled royal's toy.

But at least, when he was struck by the reality of his situation and couldn't keep his emotions inside anymore, he remembered to do that in private, whether he thought his brother was asleep or not.

* * *

Alfred tapped on the study door before peeking in, gulping as he walked inside. The Queen, looking up from his book, merely waited silently. The room was nice and homey, with a fire crackling away, bathing them in its golden light. Rows and rows of books stood on the many shelves that would probably give Matthew an orgasm from the sight of all of them. There was a couch at one end, and a desk at the other, covered in paperwork.

"Um." Alfred rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I thought maybe... now? Then I could have the night off, and..." He trailed off with a shrug.

"Now?" Arthur placed a strip of cloth in his book before slapping it shut.

"Well, Matt's out."

"Out?" Arthur's generous eyebrows raised.

Alfred nodded. "Shopping."

"By himself?"

"Tino said it was okay."

"Well." Arthur stood. "He's certainly improving."

"I know!" Alfred couldn't help the grin that spread across his face, not caring that it was the Queen he was talking to, and the Queen was only interested in one thing. "It's amazing, thank you so much for letting us borrow Tino, this is the best thing that's ever happened to us."

"Oh." Arthur looked down at his book. "You're, uh... you're welcome."

"All right, we've got some time." Alfred strolled over to the couch, shedding clothes as he went. He was rather excited about the thought of getting a full night's sleep in his own bed. Naked, he lay down on the couch.

Arthur froze, staring down at him. "What are you doing?"

"What?" Alfred looked at himself. Oh. He was laying on his back. "Oh, right. Well, in this book-"

Arthur frowned. "You're finally learning to read, and that's the sort of book you're using?"

"No, I was looking _for_ a book to use, and glanced through this one, and it had... illustrations."

"I see." Arthur studied him a moment, lips pursed. Face reddening slightly, he looked away. "Well... no. No, we better not."

"All right." Alfred flipped over. After a moment of rustling clothing, Arthur joined him, sprawling atop him. His chest was quite warm against Alfred's back.

They moved together in a familiar dance. Alfred moaned as pleasure spiked through him while his body was used for its purpose. Above him, Arthur grunted and sighed as he moved. His hands skimmed over Alfred's body, and he left a few possessive bitemarks.

Arthur finished with a groan, resting atop Alfred for a moment afterward before tugging out and rolling off of him. Alfred shivered at the sudden burst of cold against his back. He grabbed his clothes and stood up, before anything that had been left inside him could drip out onto the nice couch.

Nothing more was said with the exception of hurried goodbyes as Alfred left.

* * *

Matthew picked up the cup, eyes widening at the pricetag. It claimed that the cup was made of genuine porcelain from a far-off land outkingdom. Well, just because he was no longer broke didn't mean he wanted to throw his money away. He set the cup down, and wandered over to the next stall.

It was the first time his physician friend had okayed a trip by himself outside of the palace. It had taken a bit longer to convince his overprotective brother, but Tino had assured him Matthew would be fine, if he didn't stay away too long, and immediately returned if he felt at all unwell.

So far so good. Matthew had made a few purchases for himself, his twin, Tino, and some of the other new friends he had made in the palace.

As Matthew browsed a snack vendor's wares, a man cloaked against the cold joined him. What was visible of his face was quite handsome, though Matthew tried not to be too obvious about sneaking a peek.

"Excuse me," the man said, just as Matthew was preparing to move on. "Are you all right?"

Matthew blinked. How did _he_ know he was unwell? "Yes, I'm fine, thanks."

"You're sure?" The other man turned to him with a smile. He really was handsome, and had a hint of beard. He had an accent Matthew couldn't place. "Because it must have hurt when you fell from the heavens."

" _What?_ "

"Sorry." His smile grew apologetic. "If I told you you had a nice body, would you hold it against me?"

Matthew frowned. "I... What?"

"Ah... never mind." With a defeated sigh, the stranger turned to leave.

"I wasn't questioning you out of ignorance," Matthew said with a roll of his eyes, and the man turned. "I was just surprised that someone would seriously use such awful lines."

"But it got your attention, didn't it?" He stepped closer again. "What is your name?"

He hesitated on the verge of walking away. "Matthew."

The other man took Matthew's hand and kissed the knuckles. "I am..." He paused. "Francis."

"Is it really?"

"You doubt me?" He chuckled.

"You paused."

"It is not a well-liked name in this kingdom."

"Ohh..." It hit Matthew. So that was why his accent sounded unfamiliar! Francis was a very common Diamonds name. The kingdom Spades was pretty much always at war with. "Are you really from...?"

"Originally," Francis said quickly. "No worries."

Matthew glanced around. He was living in the palace due to the Queen of Spade's generosity, and here he was speaking to someone from the enemy kingdom! "Can't you... mask the accent a bit?"

"Very few of the general population would even recognize it these days. You're proof enough of that." Francis flashed an annoyingly winning smile. "Could I treat you to dinner?"

"I'm afraid not," Matthew said, shaking his head. "My physician wouldn't like me staying out that late."

"Oh, you are ill?" Francis' eyes widened in surprise. "Lunch, then? Or just a drink?"

Why not? Now that he could, Matthew wanted to enjoy himself whenever he could. And he had to admit, the handsome Diamonds man intrigued him. "Lunch would be nice."


	7. Chapter 7

Alfred glanced down at the "shopping" list in his hand. "Bread, jam, apples..." He was still learning, so Matthew had helpfully illustrated each word. "What in the world is that last one?" Matthew was very intelligent, teaching himself foreign languages and math just by reading about them, but he wasn't the best artist in the world. "Maybe one of the cooks will know, if they're there." It sounded like Mattie was planning a picnic; probably with his new friend. Alfred smiled to himself as he thought back to a few days ago.

" _You're going out_ again _?" Alfred, in the middle of getting ready for work, turned to stare at his brother. "You just went out yesterday! I don't know if that's a good idea. Why not rest for a couple day?"_

" _I'll be fine," Matthew said. "I won't be doing anything strenuous. I'm just going out for drinks and chatting."_

" _With who?"_

" _With Francis. I met him yesterday..." Matthew smiled, tracing the pattern on his blanket with a finger. "He's very handsome and nice." His smile promptly fell and he ducked his head, chewing on his lip. Alfred realized with a grimace that Matthew was waiting for him to disapprove, to be angry that someone would dare be too friendly with his precious brother._

 _Well... maybe he was a_ little _. But mostly he was glad that Matthew could have a life. "Sounds fun!" Alfred grinned at his twin's surprised expression. "Is that what you're going to wear? I've got something a little nicer in here somewhere. You're about my size, right?"_

_And they both laughed at the stupid joke, purely happy._

"Of course, if he does anything I don't approve of to Mattie, he's toast," Alfred said to himself. And strangely enough, now that he had mentioned toast, he could swear he smelled something burning. He paused as he approached the kitchen, sniffing the air. Tucking the list away with a frown, Alfred stepped closer.

He definitely smelled smoke. It didn't _look_ like there were any unwanted flames in the kitchen... Nose twitching like a rabbit as he sniffed, Alfred walked into the kitchen. Somebody must have left something in to cook and forgot about it. Well, Alfred had spent too many years on the brink of starvation to let a little char stop him from salvaging food.

Standing in the kitchen was none other than Queen Arthur. He was hovering near the cooking fire, swearing as he fanned at the thick plume of smoke.

Alfred froze. "Er, Ar–Your Majesty?"

Arthur whirled around. "What are you doing here?"

Alfred looked around at the assorted food. "Getting something to eat? Well, Mattie sent me with a list, and..." He shook his head. "What are _you_ doing here? Uh, if you don't mind me asking..."

"I cook," Arthur said, sounding almost defensive. "I wasn't always royalty, you know, I'm not helpless."

"Uh, I wasn't going to-"

"It just got a little too hot too quickly."

"Maybe you should take it off the fire now?" Alfred stepped closer, peering at whatever it was the Queen was killing. What appeared to be a sad little blackened chunk of meat sat in the fire. Alfred grabbed some tongs and rescued the poor smoldering thing. "I don't know that this can be salvaged."

"Well..." Arthur coughed. "I _can_ cook." He turned and quickly strode out of the kitchen.

"He's got five thousand cooks working for him..." Alfred muttered to himself as he disposed of the ruined meat, and set about hunting down Matthew's supplies. "Oh well. I guess he gets tired of being waited on hand and foot, if he wasn't born into it." Should he have asked Arthur what the last item on the list was? Ah well...

* * *

Matthew thought he might pass out as he clung to Francis. Their slick bodies writhed together on the inn's luxurious bed. Matthew was lost in a haze of sheer heavenly pleasure – Francis had spent so long worshiping every inch of Matthew's body with hands, lips and tongue, by the time they had gotten to the actual lovemaking, Matt had been too far gone with floating on pleasure to even pay much attention to the discomfort. Francis brought him right to the verge of orgasm and kept him there, until he thought he would go mad. When he finally did come, it was the most intense sensation he had ever felt.

They lay there afterward, tangled together on the soft sheets. Francis idly trailed his fingers along Matthew's side as they basked in the afterglow, listening to their breathing calm.

"That was good," Francis said at last. "You are sure that was your first time?"

"I'm sure." Matthew laughed tiredly. "There was no skill involved on my part, that was all you."

"Why thank you. So was it worth the wait?"

"I'll say."

"Good." Francis moved his hand to comb through Matthew's damp hair. "You look lovely like that, all flushed and tired and happy."

"Mm." Francis seemed to like everything about him. He was always finding something new to be enchanted with: his eyes, his glasses, his laugh, his knowledge of the Diamonds language, the way the cold didn't bother him as much as it did Francis. In return, Matthew found just about everything about Francis enchanting. His zest for life, his sweetness, his corny jokes, his affinity with animals, especially birds, his fondness for sweets that rivaled Matthew's...

"You are okay? Tino cleared you for such strenuous activity?"

Matthew lightly smacked him. "I'll be fine. But I probably won't stay too much longer." He brightened. "Why don't you come back with me? Alfred wants to meet you, I'm sure."

Francis chuckled. "To the palace?"

"On second thought, I don't know about the policy regarding guests... It's never come up." Matthew let out a sigh. "Maybe we should hold off on you visiting me."

"That's okay. I'm not a big palace fan..."

"Well I won't force you. It's nice here." Francis had a favorite inn he stayed at whenever he was in the area on business. His home was in the Leaf area of Spades, a goodly distance away. Matthew supposed he could make the journey some day, if Tino didn't mind accompanying him. "Maybe I'll bring Alfred next time. He'll worry less." Matthew chuckled when he realized how that sounded. "About my health, I mean, not you."

"I will have to think of something fun for us all to do together," Francis said. "And something special for us to do next time we're alone."

"You've thought of all of our activities," Matthew said. "I'm going to plan something special this time."

"Okay, then." Francis laughed, giving Matthew a squeeze. "Ah, I'm so glad I found you..."

* * *

Matthew was still floating in a pleasant fog after he returned home. Not in the mood to return to his room, he wandered through the vast, elaborate halls (and okay, so he was a little sore, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.). He stopped to talk to various nobles and servants, swiped a roll from the kitchen, admired the artwork and tapestries, and finally stopped to gaze at a large stained glass window he was pretty sure he hadn't seen before. Lost in thought about his lover, he gazed at the light filtering in through the blue and green mosaic pattern for many minutes.

He stepped away when he realized he was no longer alone in the hallway. Another man stood in one of the doorways, looking surprised to see Matthew there. _What did I do wrong?_ Matthew thought desperately. _I saw other people here, this isn't a restricted area. Is it?_

"Well hello." The other man smiled. He had ridiculous eyebrows. Ridiculous, _familiar_ eyebrows. Why did he look familiar?

It only took about a second for it to hit Matthew, and he gasped. "Y-your Majesty." Panic quickly seized him. In the time he had lived in the palace, he had yet to actually meet the Queen. What did he do? Everything he had studied about court etiquette fled his mind as he was confronted by a real life royal. He was supposed to bow, of course. But by then enough time had passed that it would seem like an afterthought, he was standing there staring like an idiot, and-

"There's no need for that." The Queen stepped closer. "There's nobody else here."

Matthew let out a breath. "O-okay." The panic lessened, but only slightly. Why was the Queen still there? Still walking closer and smiling at Matthew and... Well, Alfred had said that the Queen had rather quickly befriended him and invited them to live in the palace. Maybe he was just friendly.

The Queen smiled, reaching out to trail his fingers along Matthew's cheek. Matthew gulped, wondering just _how_ friendly royalty was. They had not even properly introduced themselves yet, even if they knew who they were! And then Matthew found himself being spun around and embraced from behind.

"Your Majesty!" he yelped.

"It's Arthur," the Queen said.

"Arthur, then!"

"You're awfully stiff..." His hands roamed lower, running over Matthew's stomach before resting on his genitals. "And not in a good way."

Matthew squeezed his eyes shut, starting to tremble. So this was it. After it had seemed like everything in their life was just getting better and better, Matthew was going to be raped. And there wasn't a damn thing he or anybody else could do about it because it was the Queen.

"I know how to loosen you up." Arthur's hand thankfully moved, but soon it was massaging Matthew's ass. "Come on, let's go back to... um..."

Nothing was said for a moment, then Arthur spun Matthew around to face him, frowning. "Why are you so scared? You're hardly breathing! You..." He peered closer. Almost comically, the blood drained from his face, and he backed away like Matthew was a dangerous animal. "Oh shit. Are you _Matthew_?"

Matthew stepped back until he bumped against the wall, eyes wide. "You thought I was Alfred."

"I thought something was a bit off when I saw you..." The blood had returned to his face in full force, leaving the Queen quite red. "Um..."

Matthew fled past Arthur, ignoring his startled yelp as he hurried through the hallway, back toward his room. He avoided surprised servants and annoyed nobles, not slowing down until he reached the now-familiar fancy room that had become his.

That had apparently become his because his brother was having a royal affair he apparently did not feel Matthew needed to know about.

He paced, back and forth the length of their room. He paced until his feet were sore and Tino would lecture him on overexerting himself. All he could think was _Why?_ Why had Alfred lied to him? What was he _thinking_? Had the whole stable boy thing been a lie? No, Matthew had seen him working, Alfred couldn't have created _that_ elaborate of a ruse. But the working in the stables at night... Matthew fumed, pacing quicker. It had never really made sense that he would have to disappear for so long each night just to check on the sleeping horses. How could he have fallen for something so stupid? Alfred was off with his lover each night, piling on the lies when he returned, and-

Matthew gasped, hand flying to his mouth. He came to a stop, anger draining from him, replaced with a sharp stab of worry. Alfred had returned one night from the "stables"...

Crying.


	8. Chapter 8

"You're _not_ going to believe what happened today." Alfred was already snickering as he pushed open the door, stepping into their room. "Peter was... um..." His smile fell at the sight of Matthew standing there, pale and wide-eyed. "Matt!" Alfred hurried close, taking his brother's arm with one hand and feeling his forehead with the other. "Are you okay? Do you want me to call Tino? I'll go-"

"No." Matthew pushed him away. "I'm fine."

Alfred stared at him in surprise. "But..."

"Alfred..." Matthew crossed his arms. His voice was hushed. "What is going on between you and the Queen?"

Shock bolted up Alfred's spine. "Wh-what?"

"Are you having sex with Queen Arthur?"

Alfred swallowed, mouth gone suddenly dry. "How did you know?"

Matthew scowled. "He saw me and felt me up, thinking I was you."

"Ohh..." Alfred grimaced. "Sorry." Well shit. What did he do _now_?

"I don't like being lied to." Matthew sat down on his bed, gazing at the wall. "Tell me everything, Alfred."

Another grimace. When he was Alfred instead of Al, that was usually not a good sign. "Everything?"

"Everything you've lied about. Why are we _really_ here?"

"I didn't lie about my job!" Alfred protested, choosing to continue to stand. "Well. Sort of. Um..." Matthew said nothing, eyes narrowing. "It _mostly_ happened the way I told you. Except Yao and I didn't discuss the job ahead of time. The first time he told you was the first time I heard about it, too. He just decided that on the spot because he felt bad for us." Oh right. "And he and I met in prison after I was arrested. But that's all, everything else happened how you-"

"Arrested?" Matthew gaped at him.

"Yeah... I couldn't help it! I hadn't earned enough for your medicine in a couple days, so I stole some money from some rich idiot and got caught. They dragged me to the dungeon, which is where I met Yao, and I told him I couldn't be locked up because you'd die, and he wanted proof so I brought him to you..." Matthew's eyebrows had risen considerably over the course of the story. "I won't apologize."

"I know." Matthew sagged, rubbing his forehead. "And the Queen...?"

"You remember the day I told you we were moving here?"

"Of course."

"Well earlier, I was working, and the Queen approached me. I didn't know it was him at the time. I guess he'd been noticing me around. Anyway, after I found out who he was, and was panicking because I didn't know what he was going to do, he offered us a room in the palace, and his doctors and stuff, if I agreed to be his bed mate every night."

"Alfred!" Matthew gasped. "How could you!"

"Easy!" How could Matthew even ask? "Look at everything we have now. Look at _you_! I'd have agreed if his price were my execution."

"Don't say that!" Matthew finally sprang to his feet. He paced for a moment, then stopped in front of his brother. "Al... Do you like it?"

Alfred blinked. "What?"

"Sleeping with him."

"I'd be happy no matter what, we-"

"Are you happy sleeping with him?" Matthew repeated firmly.

Alfred ran a hand through his hair. "Matt, I'm happy! Anything is worth-"

Matthew firmly tapped Alfred's chest. "I'm not asking about the benefits! You returned crying one night! Are you happy having sex with him?"

Alfred brushed his hand away. "No! Of course not." They stared at each other for a long silent moment. "But it doesn't matter," Alfred added weakly. "It's not like I can stop. And it's worth it..."

"Al..." Matthew dropped back onto the bed. Alfred's heart broke at his brother's devastated expression.

"I can... I can go..."

Matthew shook his head. "I'm not mad at you..." He held his arms out, and Alfred settled onto the bed beside him. Matthew wrapped his arms around Alfred and held him close, silently crying.

* * *

To their immense relief, a servant stopped by to let Alfred know his services would not be required that night. The twins spent that night snuggled together, clinging to each other and talking about anything. They fell asleep on Matthew's bed, curled up like a pair of cat siblings, though Matthew awoke the following morning on the floor.

Though Matthew wished it weren't so, Alfred headed off to the stables to work. Mind filled with horrible visions of Alfred being snagged by that royal bastard and raped as soon as he left the safety of their room, Matthew selected a book he knew he wasn't going to be very successful at reading.

As soon as he settled down with the book, Tino walked in, with his usual bag of supplies and friendly smile. "Good morning, Mattie."

"Good morning."

"I passed by Alfred in the hallway." Tino set his bag down and rummaged through it. "He didn't look too good." He glanced over at Matthew, and grimaced. "Neither do you. Did you two have a fight?"

Matthew set the book aside, shrugging. "Sort of." He didn't particularly want to talk about it with somebody that lived in the palace.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He got started on their daily routine, examining Matthew, making little noises of pleasure as he went. Once he decided Matthew was physically satisfactory, he poured a cup of medicine and handed it to him.

"Thanks," Matthew murmured as he accepted the cup. He stared down at the medicine, chest hitching. All he could think of, then, was _why_ he was being given that medicine, being cared for. Matthew clapped a hand to his mouth.

"Are you okay?" Tino said, alarmed.

"I'm gonna be sick..."

"Oh!" Tino quickly grabbed a small bucket. "Oh dear."

* * *

As soon as the inn room door was opened, Matthew flung himself at Francis.

"Oh!" Francis stumbled backward, but managed to retain his balance. "Did you miss me that much, kitten?"

"I couldn't stay there any longer," Matthew said, loosening his grip a bit. He reached back to push the door closed with his foot. "I'll end up doing something to the Queen that will get me arrested. Or executed..."

"Really?" For some reason, that seemed to please Francis. "I mean... Well, what happened? Here, let us sit, I'll get you something to drink." He shifted them around so that his arm was around Matthew's shoulders, and led him to the bed. "Tino still allows a little alcohol, right?"

Matthew nodded, and watched as Francis poured a couple glasses of red wine. He accepted the glass with a soft "Thank you."

Francis settled down beside him, sipping at the crimson liquid. "So what has the Queen done? Was he rude?"

Matthew bit his lip. "I thought..." He took a deep breath. "I thought he was nice! That's what Alfred said. He met the Queen, they quickly became friends, and we were invited to live in the palace."

"I remember," Francis said with a nod.

"But that isn't what happened at all! He invited us to live in the palace if Al agreed to be... if he agreed to have sex with him every night." Matthew wiped at his eyes.

"I see," Francis murmured.

"It's practically rape! Al doesn't want to at all!" Matthew set his glass aside. "I thought... I thought now that I was getting better, how wonderful it is that Alfred can stop suffering for my sake. But... he's..."

"Shh." Francis set his own wine on the nightstand and pulled Matthew into his arms. "It will be all right."

"It won't..." Matthew said tearfully.

Francis rubbed circles on Matthew's back. "I think it will."

"How do you know?"

"Once he grows tired of his plaything, he won't just throw you both out of the palace. He's not going to keep screwing your brother forever." He kissed Matthew's cheek. "This will pass."

Matthew certainly hoped so. Surely the Queen would not rescind all benefits if he moved on to someone else, right? How long would it take him to grow bored of Alfred? Then Matthew would do everything he could to find someone who would love and cherish his brother. Alfred deserved that.

"How did you find out about this, anyway?" Francis wondered.

Matthew froze, feeling his face grow warm. "Oh. Right. Um..."

* * *

With a sigh, Alfred pushed open the door. He was stopped by a soft voice behind him before he could step out into the hall.

"Don't go..."

Alfred squeezed his eyes shut. "I have to, Matt." They had spent all evening together talking some more. But night had fallen, and duty called. No servant had showed up to give him another night off.

"But I can't stand it!"

"I know..." Alfred flashed a smile over his shoulder. "Be strong for me, okay, Matt? I don't want to think you're back here crying. I'll be fine!"

Matthew opened his mouth, but shut it again with a shake of his head. "I know you will be."

Alfred turned back toward the door, but hesitated. "It's really okay, Matt. I think it's worth it. Think about what our lives used to be like." He waited for an answer, but didn't receive one, and finally walked out into the hall.

Arthur was in his usual nightly spot, waiting for Alfred on the bed. Except he didn't look as pleased as he usually did, and his clothing remained on his body.

"You groped my brother," Alfred muttered, tugging his shirt off. It was a lovely blue shirt that he was frequently told went with his eyes.

"I know..." Arthur rubbed his face. "I've never seen him before. I _know_ you're twins, but I still wasn't thinking..." He grimaced. "That was part of our deal, wasn't it?"

Alfred nodded slowly. "I guess it's better this way. He's upset, but... now he knows, and I don't have to keep lying to him." And Arthur visibly relaxed. Really, he had broken both of Alfred's conditions – Matthew wasn't supposed to find out, nor was he to be touched. Had Arthur really worried that Alfred would tell him to shove it and leave? Like he had that luxury...

"Well, as an apology..." Arthur cleared his throat, avoiding Alfred's eyes. "I was thinking... Do you remember all the times I complimented your size?"

Alfred blinked. "Um. Yes."

"And said maybe someday I'd let you do me...?"

"Yes. Oh!" Alfred stared at him. "What, now? Me? Really? You – I – I don't – you..."

"Stop that!" Arthur scowled. "It's not like I'm some delicate virgin offering you myself for deflowering."

"You're not?" Alfred rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean... er, I didn't mean it like that. But... really? Someone's done the Queen?"

"I was married briefly, if you'll recall. It was my first time when we consummated the marriage."

"Oh right." Alfred had almost forgotten about that. Of course they would have done that on their wedding night.

Arthur cleared his throat again. "What about yours?"

"My what?"

"Your first time."

"Er." Alfred laughed weakly. "What?"

"Do I still need to clarify?"

"Noo..." All he had to do was make up a name. Alfred wasn't sure why he hesitated. Maybe the question – so soon after Mattie found out the awful truth – had finally sent his brain into shock. Or maybe he was just sick of lying. Whatever the case, he just stared dumbly at Arthur, wondering what to say.

"Well?" Arthur frowned. "Was it someone I know?"

"Um. Sort of."

"Sort of?" He inclined his head. "Who could I possibly know that you would have known before – oh!" His hand flew to his mouth. "Alfred! Your own _brother_?"

"What?" Alfred gaped. "For the gods' sake, _no_! I mean you!"

"Ah." Arthur sagged, sighing. "Well that's..." His expression hardened. "What? Me?"

Alfred nodded, laughing weakly. "Funny, huh? Yeah, it was you."

"Our first time..." His eyes narrowed. "I _asked_ if you were a virgin! Why would you lie?"

Alfred... was not going to catch a break today. He may as well go and tell Matthew that _he_ had been the one who lost his favorite toy when they were little. "I don't even know why I lied about that. I guess I thought if you knew... I don't know what I thought you'd do."

Arthur stood, something dangerous flickering in his green eyes. Alfred took a step backward. "I took you roughly on hands and knees."

"That's always how you take me," Alfred pointed out, then flinched at the flash of anger on the other's face.

"You know, I haven't always treated you well," Arthur said in a low voice. "I know that. I know you're not happy with me. But at least, I thought, I'd never _hurt_ you."

Alfred could only stare at him, at a loss for words.

"Get out."

"Wh-what?"

Arthur picked up Alfred's shirt and tossed it at him, then pointed toward the door. "You heard me."

"All right..." Alfred slunk out, grimacing. Shirt in hand, he leaned back against the wall, despairing. He was just upsetting everyone. He'd never lie again...


	9. Chapter 9

Alfred flopped onto his bed with a groan, while his brother looked on in surprise.

"That was quick," Matthew said. "Did he take pity on us and send you back?"

"No," Alfred said into his blanket. "Now he's pissed at me, too."

"Too? I'm not pissed at you." Matthew sighed. The bed shifted as he sat down near Alfred's legs. "What did you do?"

"He found out I lied to him..."

"That seems to be getting you into a lot of trouble these days."

"Tell me about it!" Alfred rolled onto his back. "I'm going to be the most honest person in the world from now on."

"Good." Matthew patted his leg. "What did you lie to him about?"

Alfred winced. "Being a virgin."

"That one's actually quite common in stories. Though it's usually women who say they're virgins in books... Well really, Al, I don't think he'd have cared if you weren't."

"I _was_! When in the world do you think I had time to have a lover before?"

Matthew gaped at him. "You said you weren't when you were? Why?"

"I don't know! But now he's mad because that means he hurt me and... yeah." He groaned again. "If I beg, maybe he'll let you stay even if I get kicked out..."

"Al..." Instead of anger or sympathy or any expected emotions, there was puzzlement on Matthew's face.

"What?"

Matthew inclined his head, peering curiously down at his twin. "Has it ever occurred to you that Arthur might... like you?"

"No," Alfred said quickly. What an idea.

"Well, it's just that... you said he's mad at you because he hurt you?"

"That's what he said. He was furious."

"If you were just a sex toy to him, wouldn't he be mad for other reasons?" Matthew shrugged. "Like just the fact that he was lied to. Or being denied the privilege of knowing he was taking your virginity. Someone who didn't care about you wouldn't worry about if he hurt you, don't you think?"

Alfred blinked. Matthew had lost his mind. Arthur, _care_ about him?

"And he did try to cook your favorite food, when he obviously can't cook."

Alfred finally laughed. Matthew really had gone mad. "How did you get _that_ from what I told you?"

Another shrug. "You said it looked like a meat patty."

"He doesn't even know what food I like!"

"He knows you're from Hearts," Matthew pointed out. "And anybody could guess you'd probably like a popular Hearts dish."

"I guess so..."

"Just think about it." Matthew slowly shook his head. "Don't get me wrong. After what he did to you, I wouldn't mind being arrested for regicide, but..." He laughed suddenly. "I was talking to Francis, he was comforting me. He said that most likely the Queen would grow tired of you, but continue to let us live here, and so everything would be okay. But before I left, he said that he wouldn't be surprised if this were his awful attempt at courting you."

Alfred sighed. It was a ridiculous concept, Arthur had never shown any interest in Alfred except for his ass. But to humor Matthew, he gave it some consideration. Of course Matt would want to think that, he had just found out his brother was somebody's whore! He would look for any reason to think Alfred's situation might improve.

Alfred thought back to their many nights together. Could any of that be taken in a different way? He frowned to himself as memories and words filtered through his mind. " _Or you could stay the night..."_ An unwanted request to spend all night fucking... Or was it? Alfred thought back, and realized Arthur had looked, well... hopeful. He refused to have sex face-to-face, which certainly seemed cold, only hadn't he looked more embarrassed than anything else? He seemed genuinely pleased at Matthew's progress...

And Matthew was right. Arthur was _furious_ now that he knew he might have hurt Alfred. That didn't really make any sense, given the situation as Alfred had always assumed it.

"But it doesn't make sense..." Alfred said weakly. "Who does that? If he started liking me, he could have, I don't know, stopped treating me like a toy!"

Matthew chewed on his lip, clearly having a mental battle between his disgust with the Queen, and the desire for him to turn out to be a decent guy. "I suppose he's just really bad at that sort of thing? His marriage was arranged for him from a young age, he never needed to know about... relationship stuff."

"Relationship?" Alfred choked on the word. "You're getting a little ahead of yourself!"

"Al..." Matthew turned to face him. "What if it's true?"

"That's what I'm wondering!"

"Could you ever like him back?"

"I don't know!" Alfred was about ready to flee from the conversation. "What did Francis do to you?"

Matthew smiled slightly. "I was only wondering..."

"Stop wondering!"

"Stop yelling, a guard's going to come and investigate." Matthew sighed, combing a hand through his hair. "Why don't you go talk to him and figure out what is going on?"

"He kicked me out!"

"So go apologize."

"You're the one who spent the last twenty four hours crying over this whole thing, and now you want me to apologize!"

"Apologize as a pretext to get to the bottom of this." Matthew tugged Alfred closer. "I hate him for what he's done, Al, it makes me sick to think about. But if there's a chance this has become some messed up way of being with someone he cares about..." He hugged his twin. "I'd give anything for your situation to be better."

"I know." Alfred kissed his head. "So let me up and I'll go talk to the idiot."

Matthew pulled away with a smile. "Oh boy, if _you're_ calling someone an idiot..."

"Nice to see you're back to your old self." Alfred stood, wondering if he had lost his mind, too. He walked swiftly through the halls, wondering if Arthur would still be there. He was usually in his room at night, but maybe when he was upset he would go find work to do.

"Um. Hello?" Alfred knocked on the door, then opened it a crack. The Queen was sitting at his desk, staring down at a mound of papers. "Your Majesty?"

Arthur slowly turned, focusing his reddened eyes on Alfred. "Hello..."

Alfred grimaced. "Hi. Um, look, I-"

"I'm Arthur." The Queen stood from his desk and strode toward the door.

"What?" He must have misheard that.

"I said... I'm Arthur." He stuck his hand out and waited, looking incredibly awkward.

"Um." Alfred glanced behind himself, scratching his head. Turned back. "Uh, we've met..."

The Queen flashed him an annoyed glare. "I'm starting over," he muttered. "After you left I asked one of my advisers what to do, and he said we should start over."

"Oh! Right, er..." He shook the offered hand. "I'm Alfred?"

Arthur nodded and turned away, striding toward the bed. "Shall we?"

"But we just met!" Alfred said, trotting after him. He laughed nervously when Arthur gave him another glare over his shoulder. "I mean, yeah, sure." As usual, he stripped off his clothes as he went, naked by the time he sat on the bed. Arthur soon joined him, fancy clothing tossed carelessly aside.

"So..." Arthur coughed, still looking thoroughly awkward. He was probably longing for the days when he could just mount Alfred and ride without a second thought. "So this is your first time, right?"

Alfred inwardly groaned. He was not in the mood to roleplay. "Arthur..."

"I'm not asking you to pretend." Arthur looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Have you slept with anyone else?"

Alfred shook his head. "Nope."

"Then I know exactly what it is you have and haven't done." When Arthur turned back, he wore a little smirk. "So it is your first time for this." As Alfred watched in surprise, Arthur leaned over and licked his cock.

"Wh-wha..." Alfred gasped. Arthur was... the _Queen_ was...! "Y-you... don't have to..."

Arthur just ignored him, lapping at the rapidly hardening organ. Once he had Alfred fully hard, he slid his lips over the head. Alfred thought he might go mad at the moist heat that was suddenly engulfing him. Arthur worked him with lips and tongue, and Alfred had never felt anything like it in his life.

Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, that he would come just from these few short moments of a mouth on him, Arthur sat up, releasing him.

Alfred opened his mouth to whine about the sudden loss, but caught himself. He was in no position to demand anything. "Um." It was hard to think.

"You haven't done this, either." Arthur dipped his fingers into the ever-present jar of oil. But instead of the usual spot, his fingers went into... himself. His eyes fluttered shut as he spread the oil inside him. Alfred swallowed thickly as he watched, unable to speak. Before he was aware of what was happening, Arthur pushed him onto his back, and straddling him.

"You don't have to..." Alfred repeated, voice hoarse. He was finally going to be on top – sort of – and he had never felt less in control.

But then Arthur slid himself onto Alfred's erection, and all thought fled from Alfred's head. He arched back with a yelp, vaguely aware of Arthur's chuckle. The slick flesh tightly enclosed around Alfred moved, sliding up and down, driving him insane. He gripped the sheets in his fists, toes curling.

"I..." Alfred managed. He swallowed, reaching up to rest a hand on Arthur's bobbing hip. "I won't... er..." He was sixteen, and it was his first time having sex. Like that, anyway. There was no way he'd last as long as he wanted.

With another chuckle, Arthur slid off of him, and this time, Alfred did whine. When he pried his eyes open, he saw Arthur laying on his back beside him. "Oh. I can... You want to..." He was having serious issues getting his sentences out. "Like that?"

Arthur nodded, and that was all the invitation Alfred needed before rolling on top of him. He thrust back into Arthur – or tried to, instead encountering solid flesh. "Ow!" He grimaced, reaching down to grip himself and guide it to the right spot before pushing carefully back in. The euphoria quickly returned. Alfred thrust his hips enthusiastically, slowing down whenever he saw Arthur wince. But for the most part, the Queen seemed to be enjoying it as much as Alfred was.

As predicted, Alfred did not last long at all, body humming with intense pleasure as he filled Arthur with his seed. It was the first time he had managed to come first. He had come so quickly that he had to stroke Arthur for a while before he was pushed over the edge as well.

It was a quite a few more minutes before Alfred came down from his euphoric high and realized he was laying on the bed, quite close to Arthur. He blinked, sitting upright. "Um."

Arthur quickly sat up as well. "Um," he agreed. "Was – I hope your first time was good."

"Yeah. It was." Alfred now felt incredibly awkward. He had just screwed the Queen. The man who ruled the kingdom by himself, ruled every man woman and child in it, and fucked Alfred whenever he felt like it and could have him killed on a whim. Alfred had actually done him.

Wait. What had he returned for in the first place, anyway?

"So... what the hell?"

Arthur tilted his head, puzzled.

Alfred paused, wondering just what to say. He gave up looking for the perfect phrasing and just blurted, "How long have you, um, liked me?"

"Oh..." Arthur looked down, cheeks growing red. "I don't know. A while."

Alfred gaped at him. "So why in the world did you keep treating me that way?"

"I don't know! I didn't know how to act." Arthur slid off the bed, snatching up his clothes. "How was I supposed to know what to say? I was already treating you like..."

"Shit?"

Arthur winced. "Right. I thought you already hated me, that there was nothing I could do to change that. So I figured I may as well keep you with me..."

Alfred realized he had no idea what to say to that. He had no idea what to _think._ Mattie had been right... While Arthur cleaned up and dressed, Alfred remained on the bed, feeling a little lost. Several long, silent minutes passed.

"Maybe..." Arthur said softly, "maybe one of these nights, now that Mattie knows, you can stay all night?"

"Don't call him that," Alfred said. "And maybe." He finally started to retrieve his own clothes. "Matt asked me, earlier, if it turned out you cared for me, if I could ever like you back." He buttoned his shirt while Arthur waited patiently. "I said I don't know."

Arthur pursed his lips, but nodded. "It's not an outright no."

"Nope. I guess not." They stood there, the silence stretching out between them as they each wondered what the hell to say. "Well..." Alfred stepped back. "Seeya tomorrow!" He turned and fled.


	10. Chapter 10

Pale morning light filtering in through the curtains slowly roused Matthew from his sleep. He groggily opened his eyes, yawning, lack of sleep urging him to just roll over and wake back up in the afternoon. He should have known better than to try and wait for Alfred to return... Apparently they had smoothed things over. Matthew groped along the nightstand for his glasses, and fumbled them onto his face.

At least Alfred's bed was occupied now. Burning curiosity won out over sleepiness, and Matthew forced himself out of bed, shivering once he left the comfort of his blankets behind. Unsurprisingly, Alfred had not changed before flopping into bed. Matthew shook his head at his brother's rumpled appearance.

"Are you staring at me?" Alfred mumbled, not opening his eyes. "M'tired."

"So am I," Matthew said. "So tell me everything, and we can go back to sleep. The horses won't mind if you're a little late."

With a groan, Alfred sat up, rubbing at his eyes. "He decided to start over."

Matthew tilted his head. "Start over?"

"That's what someone told him to do about me. So we introduced ourselves. It was silly." Alfred chuckled, though it didn't hold his usual humor. "And he asked me if it was my first time, and I didn't want to _pretend_ it was, but we didn't do that anyway. He sucked my dick and let me do him, so it really was my first time."

Matthew's jaw dropped. "He what?" He was too surprised to be creeped out by his brother's frank description.

"You were right, Mattie. He said that he's liked me for a while, but didn't know what to do about it, and assumed I would always hate him, so he just kept things up because it kept me with him at least..."

"I was right..." Matthew repeated. It was one thing to be certain there must be more to Arthur's treatment of Alfred. Quite another to have it confirmed.

"Enjoy it, I'm not gonna admit that a lot." Alfred rolled over. "Anyway, my head hurts from thinking about it..."

"I think I need to go for a walk..." Matthew tugged out a dresser drawer.

Alfred mumbled a question, which only someone who had lived with him his entire life could translate. "I'm not sleepy anymore," Matthew answered. He quickly pulled some clothes on, including the red shirt he was especially fond of despite the overwhelming blue of the Spades palace and its citizens. Even if it hadn't been his favorite color, it made him think of his childhood in Hearts, where red was the favored hue.

After running a comb through his hair, Matthew slipped out of the room, leaving his snoring brother behind. He decided to make the kitchen his first stop, and picked up a scone and some jam. Normally he would head for the courtyard with the fountain he particularly liked as a place to sit with his thoughts, but it was much too cold for that, so the atrium became is destination instead.

He didn't get very far beyond the kitchen, though.

 _Oh, not again..._ Matthew thought about running for it when he recognized the regal figure striding down the hallway. He looked around for the nearest escape, a brief battle waging between the part of him that wanted nothing to do with the Queen, and the part that wanted to sit him down and have a good long Protective Brother Chat.

The decision was made for him when it became apparent that he was already spotted. With a sigh, Matthew held his ground as the other approached.

"I was hoping to find you," Arthur said. He was tightly gripping something against his chest.

"I'm Matthew," he said quickly, not wanting a repeat of the other day.

Arthur smiled slightly. "I know... It was you I was looking for."

Matthew couldn't be sure if he was serious, or lying to save face. "What for?"

"Um..." He shoved the object in his hands toward Matthew. It was a book. "You like reading, right? I... um..." He mumbled something.

"What?"

"I wanted to say... sorry. For, um, touching you. Inappropriately."

Matthew blinked in surprise, reaching out to accept the book. It looked quite old, and detailed the history between Spades and Hearts. "Oh." He looked up at the awkward, embarrassed Queen, feeling a little shocked. "Um, thank you." But it still wasn't right, and he shook his head. "That isn't what you should be apologizing to me for."

Arthur gave him a baffled look.

"You used me as bait to make my brother your whore."

Arthur flinched and averted his gaze. "Right... I'm sorry about that, too."

A peacock blue couch was available in a nearby nook. Matthew walked over to it, and Arthur took the hint and followed.

"I hope you don't mind me speaking frankly, Your Majesty," Matthew said. "But you have an odd way of showing you care about people."

"I didn't know that would happen!" Arthur said. "I mean, I saw him one day, and wanted to have him, because he had such a handsome face and nice build and gorgeous arse, and... er. Well, I guess you know that – I mean, you have all that, too, and... that did not come out right."

Matthew just stared at him. That man really was inept at simply talking to people.

"But over time that changed..."

"And you thought you had no chance, so may as well keep him on as your toy?"

"I didn't know what else to do!"

Matthew sighed, running a finger over the book's leather spine. "What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know..."

With a flicker of shock, Matthew realized Arthur was looking at him... hopefully. "You want my advice?"

Arthur looked away again, slowly nodding.

"Well... to start with, I guess you could make the sex better. He might be more receptive if he isn't feeling so used."

"Did you just call me a poor lover?" Arthur said, turning back with narrowed eyes.

Matthew was not cowed by an impending royal tantrum. "Poor, no. Selfish, yes."

"Did he not tell you about last night?"

"Well keep it up. Make it about him. Making him feel as good as possible should be your top priority." When the Queen opened his mouth – presumably to protest – Matthew interrupted him. "He'll return the favor, so you don't have to worry about yourself. You'll be taken care of, too. So focus on pleasing him, finding out what drives him wild."

Arthur cleared his throat. "No offense, but what makes you an expert on sex? Surely you aren't that experienced."

Matthew shrugged. "No. But my lover is, he could make a rock orgasm if he wanted to."

"Ah..."

"And I've read a lot... Anyway." Matthew coughed. "Yeah. Just... be nice to him? Maybe try some of the traditional courting methods? Flowers, gifts, I don't know if you're allowed to go on dates..." He looked down at the book again. "You have it in you. You remembered that I like to read, and brought me a book about our kingdoms you thought would mean something to me. It's the little things like that..."

"So I'm not a total loss?" A smile tugged at the Queen's lips.

"Not total."

"All right." Arthur stood.

"Just don't overdo it," Matthew warned.

"Overdo what?"

"The various courting things. They should be spontaneous surprises. If you overdo it and overwhelm him with gifts, that won't be good, either. Then it'll seem like you're trying to buy his affection or something."

Arthur's slender shoulders sagged. "This is all very complicated..."

Matthew watched him go, but called out to him just as the Queen reached a doorway. Arthur paused in the middle of gripping the handle. "I'm sure you don't want to hear this," Matthew said, "but there's an old saying. If you love something, set it free-"

"I'm familiar with that saying," Arthur said, yanking the door open and hurrying inside.

* * *

"Hey," Alfred said, disrobing as he headed for the bed. "So are we doing something new, or just the usual? Is there anything we haven't done?"

"Maybe just the usual..." Arthur said. He was on the bed already, as he normally was, though he was still wearing undershorts.

"Right." Alfred crawled onto the bed on hands and knees. Was Arthur going to act like last night had never happened? Alfred honestly wasn't sure if he would prefer it that way or not.

"Um..." A hand touched his back. "Flip over."

"Oh!" Alfred rolled onto his back.

"There. Okay." Looking nervous – as if they hadn't had sex a million times already – Arthur slipped his shorts off and reached for the oil.

Alfred had never thought it could be so _good_ to bottom. Arthur was slow and gentle, running his hands over Alfred's body, lingering on spots that were discovered to be sensitive. The very fact that they were moving together, face-to-face, added a new erotic thrill. They had faced each other the previous night, but Alfred had been too preoccupied by the excitement of topping to really concentrate on their positions. Arthur brought him slowly to the brink of orgasm, then pushed him over the edge with a few quicker thrusts and strokes of his erection. A couple more thrusts, and Arthur joined him with a cry.

It took a few moments of sticky, panting recovery for Alfred to realize that he had come first while bottoming that time. Would wonders never cease...

"It could have been like that," Arthur murmured some time later, when they sat near each other on the bed, the closest they had come to snuggling after sex. "Even back when I... when I just wanted your body. If I'd known it was your first time, I'd have-"

"Can we please just drop that?" Alfred said, exasperated. "It's over and done with, it was my own fault, just forget about it."

"Oh..."

Nothing was said for a long stretch of time. Unable to stand it, Alfred said, "Your first time was okay, right?"

"Ha."

Alfred blinked. "No? Was your husband bad at it? Cruel?"

Arthur stared down at the bedding, fiddling with a loose thread. "Not bad, so much as... ignorant." He smirked. "Our instructors didn't think sex was something they should teach noble kids about. I was only fourteen when we married, he wasn't much older, and neither of us had ever..."

Alfred sat fully upright. "Oh." A laugh escaped before he could stop it. The thought of two virgins fumbling together with only the vaguest idea of what they were supposed to do... He laughed again, longer.

Arthur scowled at him. "I'm glad that amuses you."

"I'm sorry!" Alfred just laughed harder. "Did he try putting it in your ear?"

"Belt up!"

"I bet you're gonna make noble kids be taught about sex now!"

"I have already changed that." Arthur finally stood, wandering over to look at one of his paintings, not bothering to dress. "Well... um... you know it's almost the Festival of Swords, right? Spades' holiday that-"

"I know what it is," Alfred said. "We've lived here since we were ten. Just because I spent the day begging for change from the celebrators doesn't mean I wasn't aware of it."

"All right..."

Alfred shrugged. "What about it?" It had been so long since a holiday had meant anything to him besides more people to beg from and extra discarded food lying around, he hadn't even thought about the fact that one was coming up.

Every kingdom had its own festival, celebrating some even in its history – originally, anyway; in modern times they were simply traditions and excuses to have fun. Spades' was a wintertime celebration of some major battle or other from long ago. There were feasts, formal dances, and a parade that long ago was entirely of soldiers but now was dancers and jesters and many other entertainers, led by soldiers. What soldiers could be spared during the never ending wartime, anyway.

"Were you planning on participating in the festivities?" It sounded like Arthur was forcing the words out.

"I hadn't really thought about it." Alfred scratched his head, then let his hand drop with a grin. "Yeah! I'm all for having a good time." There was yet another thing to appreciate about their new life. They could go out and enjoy themselves during holidays! Alfred couldn't remember the last time he joined a celebration for fun. His parents had still been around, he was sure.

"Maybe... er..." Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, there's a dance here in the palace. Every year I go with someone different, and usually they're quite boring, or spend the whole time kissing my arse, or act like an idiot. So I thought it might be nice... I don't know... I suppose you could go with me."

Alfred stared at his back, taken by surprise. "I..." It was so hard to get used to the idea of a halfway decent Queen. Well, if he was going to play nice, no reason to not return the favor. "Sure."

"Really?" Arthur turned, eyes wide.

"Really. Don't act so surprised." Alfred smiled. "It'll be good to see you outside the bedroom, in a different light."

"O-oh." Arthur quickly turned back. "Well. I'll send a message to the tailor, you'll need something nice."

Alfred sagged. "The tailor. Right..."


	11. Chapter 11

Arthur paced, frequently glancing at the door that stubbornly remained closed. Then he would look at the other, much larger door, which he really should have stepped through by now. What was taking that boy so long?

Asking Alfred to accompany him to the dance hadn't been a mistake, had it? As far as Arthur knew, word of their relationship had not spread. So at least people would only be seeing the stable boy, not the Queen's bed mate. That couldn't be what was holding him up. Maybe he just spent a long time getting ready? Maybe he got all ready and realized nature was calling? Maybe he wasn't coming, and this was payback for the way he had been treated?

Arthur was on the verge of sending someone to find Alfred when the door swung open and he walked in, breathing heavily. Arthur turned to give him a lecture, but his breath caught.

Alfred had been dressed in an outfit similar to Arthur's, long blue coat over dark blue vest and white shirt, brown tie and pants. As he paused to catch his breath, Alfred tugged on his collar with an annoyed look.

"Stop, you'll muss yourself up," Arthur said. "Where were you?"

"I got turned around..." Alfred muttered. "You'd think I'd know my way around the whole palace by now."

One would think. "Well, you look..." Arthur felt his face heat. "You look good."

"Thanks. Um, so do you." Alfred looked him up and down. "Except for the silly hat."

Arthur chose to ignore that. What did a peasant know about fashion, anyway? "Why are you wearing your watch?"

Alfred fingered the pocketwatch, dangling from his coat pocket. "I thought it looked nice. Why have it if I can't show it off?" He smiled to himself. "Mattie didn't feel the same way about his scarf."

"What scarf?"

"Never mind."

Arthur reached out to haul Alfred closer by the arm. "Well everybody is waiting for us to show up. You're not all sweaty, are you?"

"I'm fine!"

"Good, because there's no time to freshen up." The guards at the double doors to the ballroom swung them open, and Arthur linked arms with Alfred. "Just smile at everyone," he said as they approached the doorway.

They walked through, emerging at the top of the ballroom's grand staircase. The room was decorated in blues and silvers, as were the many nobles and palace denizens that filled it. At the announcement of the Queen's arrival, everyone stopped whatever they were doing to turn and bow.

Arthur felt Alfred stiffen as all eyes were drawn to them. But at least he was smiling, Arthur saw out of the corner of his eye, even if it was a big fake smile. They made their way down the stairs, and Arthur was burning with curiosity about the barrage of whispers. Good or bad comments on his choice of companion this year?

They reached the bottom of the stairs, crowd parting for them. Arthur smiled at the whispering crowd, pleased to note smiles on their faces. It was doubtful most of them were even aware of one of the stable boys; to them Alfred must just be a handsome stranger who may look familiar to those who had passed him in the halls.

"It's okay," Arthur said, low enough to only reach Alfred's ears.

"They hate me," Alfred whispered back.

"They don't hate you."

"I doubt they're saying nice things about me."

"You aren't the first pe... com... non-noble I've brought to a dance. They're just curious." He hadn't thought Alfred would be self-conscious. He supposed anyone would be, given the circumstance. "They'll lose interest soon. See?" The orchestra had launched into their next number, and the dancers returned their attention to their partners. Which gave Arthur pause for thought. "I suppose I should have asked if you could dance..."

"I can dance," Alfred scoffed.

"Really?"

"Tino's been teaching me some basic moves."

Arthur mentally sighed. Okay, so the boy had been dancing for about a week. He'd have to keep it simple. "Okay, so..."

"Um."

They awkwardly faced each other. Arthur took Alfred's right hand in his left, then hovered the other hand over his back. After a long hesitation, he realized how silly he was being. He knew Alfred's body as intimately as possible, he could put his hand on the other's _back_ in public for goodness sake. He firmly placed it there, though he still didn't meet Alfred's eyes.

"Nice song," Alfred said lightly after a long moment. "Are we going to move?"

"You're not moving either..."

"You're leading."

Arthur scowled at him, but pulled them into a simple dance he hoped Alfred could keep up with. To his surprise, Alfred could, even if he moved a little stiffly. The boy never stopped surprising him, which was just one of many reasons Arthur had fallen for what was supposed to just be a good fuck every night. But no, he had to be so damned charming and caring and sweet and honest (well, _usually_...)

"I guess this isn't too bad," Alfred said. He missed a step, stumbled slightly, but acted as if it never happened. "Did you see the dress on that redhead? I don't think that can even be called a 'neckline'."

"Shh. Someone could overhear you."

"Sorry..."

"Keep the conversation polite."

"Oh, right."

And nothing was said after that, as they whirled through the ballroom with the other dancers casting the occasional curious look their way. Arthur did his best to lead them, seeking easier steps when Alfred seemed to have trouble, or switching to a less spinny dance when Alfred looked kind of nauseated.

"So..." Arthur said, hunting for some sort of suitable conversation. "You're... you're not bad, if you've only been dancing since I asked you to join me. Have you danced before?"

"Only when I was little," Alfred said. "We had our own big holiday, you know."

"Ah yes, in Hearts. The Festival of Cups." Foreign affairs, that he could manage.

"Right! Only it wasn't a big formal thing like this. Well, it might have been in the palace, I don't know. But the dance we'd go to was fun. No big orchestra, just some fiddlers."

"Huh. What else did you do?"

"Have a picnic with lots of food. It's in the summertime, you know, so there's lots of outdoor activities. Games and stuff. And at night there's fireworks! Brought all the way from a far-away place outkingdom. What is it... the place Yao's from."

"Mahjong."

"That's the one!"

Arthur couldn't help but smile at the enthusiastic reply. Was it any wonder he had fallen for him?

"That was the best part, watching the fireworks. Oh, and the day had extra meaning for us, me and Mattie were born on the Festival of Cups!"

"Were you? I didn't know that."

"We were!"

"How nice." Arthur glanced around. "Where is your brother?"

Alfred sighed. "Oh, his boyfriend wanted to go to a funner dance, I guess..."

Arthur still hadn't even seen the two of them together. If not for Tino's word for it, he might start to think Alfred was a brilliant actor playing twins for some reason. "Maybe you could stay all night tonight?"

"Oh. Sure, okay."

Arthur swallowed. Alfred _seemed_ at ease with him. He didn't bother getting his hopes up that Alfred was falling for him, but... it was better than he could have hoped for. Better than he deserved.

Maybe someday...

* * *

"And then there's a big fireworks display, all the way from Mahjong." Matthew smiled at the pleasant memory. "I wonder if I'll ever be able to go back."

"Of course you will," Francis said. "You're healthy enough for travel, aren't you?"

"Maybe. If Tino goes with me."

"Why wouldn't he want to?"

"I couldn't ask that of him." Matthew shrugged. "Maybe someday." He opened his mouth to say that he'd like to visit Francis' home when he had to return, but changed his mind. He didn't want to just invite himself over, that seemed impolite. Francis had actually needed to return home a few days ago, but agreed to stay for the holiday. He would have to go soon, though. But, he swore, he would be back.

"Are you ready for another dance?" Francis stood, offering a hand to Matthew.

Matthew shook his head. "Not right now."

"Whenever you're ready."

The dance they had attended was held outdoors in spite of the chill. Dancers laughed and spun together, dressed snugly in fur. A server stopped by their table, and Matthew accepted another steaming cup of tea in his mitten-clad hands. "I wish you'd reconsider seeing the palace ball."

"This is infinitely more fun, trust me." Francis patted his shoulder. "You can see your brother make a fool of himself in front of everybody another time, no?"

"He's not that bad of a dancer, all things considered..."

"And this way we can get an early start on finding a good spot for the parade. You do not want to be in an indoor ballroom when it comes time for everyone to rush out at once, trust me."

Matthew smiled. "I suppose so..." He took a long sip of tea, sighing as it warmed him. "I just think you don't want to meet my brother."

"Not true! You can bring him whenever you want!"

"He's always busy during the day..."

Francis' laughter was muffled by the scarf he had wrapped around his neck and lower face. "I'm just teasing. We're all busy. I wish I didn't have to go home..."

"Yeah..." Matthew heaved a sigh. "Well, let's not worry about that, it's a holiday."

"That's the spirit."

They sat and people-watched for another ten minutes or so, and then joined in the dancing once again. Matthew couldn't remember a better night. After about an hour of alternating between dancing and resting, they left the party behind, walking hand-in-hand in the direction of the palace.

"There is a spot I know of that will give us the best view of the parade," Francis said, breath curling out in a small cloud from behind his scarf. "It is just up here on this hill, my little one."

"Keep trying," Matthew said.

"Hmm?"

"Pet names. I'm taller than you."

"So picky. Okay, up here. Let me help you."

"More helpful if you take my arm than shove me by the ass..."

"But less fun." Francis took Matthew's arm, guiding him up the hill. Upon reaching the top, he removed his cloak and spread it on the ground.

"But you'll be cold!" Matthew protested.

"I dressed in layers. And you will keep me warm, no?" He settled down on the cloak, patting the spot beside him. Matthew quickly joined him, leaning close to share his body heat. Francis wrapped an arm around him. Below them stretched the wide street the parade would use, illuminated by torches. Matthew felt a thrill of excitement.

"I haven't seen the parade since I was ten." Matthew smiled. "Alfred tried to join it, so I went after him, and we got lost." He leaned his head on Francis' shoulder. "It was the last time our parents punished us."

Francis gave him a comforting squeeze. They leaned against one another, and in spite of the cold, Matthew started to doze, drifting in and out to the sound of other people joining them to wait. He had no idea how much time had passed before a sudden burst of light and noise startled him back fully awake.

"Wha...?" Matthew looked around wildly in confusion, before following Francis' startled gaze upward, just in time to see another burst of color. "Fireworks!"

"They don't normally set off fireworks here..." Francis said, staring at the display in wonder. "I've never seen them here, actually."

Matthew shook his head. "Neither have I. Not since we left Hearts." He laughed in delight. "Oh, they're beautiful!"

Francis kissed his head. "That they are."

* * *

Alfred could only stare, dumbfounded. He tightly gripped the balcony's rail as he watched the sky. "Arthur... Did you do this?"

A nervous cough came from behind him, and Arthur slowly moved to his side. "Do you like it?"

"Are you nuts?" The fireworks exploded in showers of colored sparks. Some seemed to form circles or other shapes.

"I asked Yao after we left the dance."

"Oh." Alfred turned, blinking in surprise at the sight of the Queen. Arthur was gazing at the fireworks, face illuminated by each burst, expression soft. He looked... well, he looked... nice. It was almost easy to forget the smirk of a spoiled royal claiming Alfred as his plaything.

Almost.

Arthur glanced over at him, then quickly looked away. "What? Watch the show."

Face burning, Alfred turned back to the fireworks. "So... just because Yao's from there, why does he have fireworks with him?"

"I wasn't going to ask..."

Alfred chuckled. The fireworks were slowing down, until finally a huge, multicolored burst of light filled the air, shimmering as it faded away, and the sky was filled only with lingering smoke.

The last firework signaled the first blaring trumpet notes of the parade, and soon the soldiers were marching onto the street. Alfred stared down at them, grinning like he did as a child. "I like watching them."

"They look good, don't they?"

"I wanted to join them when I was younger."

Arthur gave him a startled look. "You did?"

"The Hearts army, I mean. Well, not that there's anything wrong with here, but... I mean, when I was begging, I knew that being a soldier was one option, but I didn't want to."

"I take it you had grown out of that desire."

Alfred leaned his elbows on the railing, chin resting on his hands. "Well, no offense, but the constant war with Diamonds is kinda... er..."

"Silly?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to throw my life away for a kingdom our father dragged us to... That wouldn't have helped Mattie at all." He watched the last of the line of soldiers pass out of sight, and turned his attention to the other entertainers that followed. "Oh look, a juggler! How does he do that and walk? I want to learn that." He leaned over the rail, watching the musicians and jesters and acrobats, the brightly painted floats being led by horses.

Eventually, he looked back at the Queen, who looked like he was enjoying the parade, even if he was less enthusiastic about it than Alfred. "Oh. Um... Thanks."

Arthur tilted his head. "For what?"

"The fireworks. Duh."

"Oh." Arthur cleared his throat, huddling into his cloak as he focused on the parade stretched out below them. "You're welcome."


	12. Chapter 12

Alfred chuckled as they approached Francis; at the look of wide-eyed surprise. It had been a last-minute decision, accompanying Matt when he said goodbye. He would probably be an unwanted guest on their last day together, but oh well.

Alfred tried to picture what Francis was thinking, tried to imagine Arthur randomly showing up with two of him, and a giggle escaped, earning him an annoyed look from Matthew. "Um, nothing." Well, he supposed Mattie had been right about how good-looking the fellow was, ridiculous semi-beard and all.

Francis smiled, looking back and forth between them. It probably didn't help that they wore wool hats pulled down low against the chill. "Hmm..." Francis rubbed his stubbled chin. "Whose ass do I grab?"

"Um, I'm Matthew," he said, raising his hand slightly. "And now I'm kind of afraid of what your answer is..."

"Don't be silly." And Francis pulled him into a deep kiss, and sure enough, gave his butt a squeeze. Helplessly watching, Alfred rolled his eyes.

"So, Alfred! We finally meet." Despite Alfred's attempt to back away, Francis tugged him close, and kissed his cheeks. "Thank you," he murmured. "I'm sure it is difficult, but I've taken good care of our Mathieu."

Alfred sighed, shaking his head with a chuckle. "I wish you guys would stop assuming I'm going to be this raging overprotective monster. I'm happy for Mattie! Seriously!"

"Ah, sorry, sorry." And Mattie was right about that, too. He did have a nice accent! "But yes, I see now. You have blue eyes, not violet."

"Yup." Alfred tapped his glasses. "It's very rare, I've never seen anyone else with purple eyes. Right, Matt?"

Matthew tilted his head. "Right, but Francis says the King of Clubs does."

"Oh..." Well there was a downer. "I'm sure yours are better!"

"I think so, too," Francis said. "Well, I suppose we should all go out to eat before I have to leave?"

Matthew nodded. "Sounds good."

"Yeah!" Alfred nudged his brother. "Don't worry, I won't stick around the whole time. You two will have time to go at it like bunnies."

"Al!" Matthew sputtered.

"Thank you," Francis said without batting an eye.

Matthew coughed, and quickly changed the subject. "Are you sure you have to leave now?"

Francis grasped his hands. "I'm afraid so, I have already been away from home too long. But I will always return to you."

Alfred had only been around them for a few minutes, and he was already starting to feel nauseated from the fluff. "Hey, come on you two, I was promised food!"

* * *

"So that wasn't too bad." Francis put an arm around Matthew as they watched a happily full Alfred depart. "I'm kind of surprised. I did not think he would be a _raging overprotective monster,_ as he put it, but after taking care of you for so long, I still expected some reluctance to let go."

Matthew smiled, understanding exactly what Francis meant. "Yeah. But I guess, because I was sick for so long, and we both thought I'd be confined to a bed for the rest of my life, he's still thrilled I can _have_ a life now. I'd bet anything that he'd think less of you if I'd never gotten sick."

"That might very well be." Francis sighed. "Though I'm sorry to say that my carriage will be here soon. I do not think we have time to return to my room."

"That's okay." Matthew clung tighter to his lover. "We'll save it for next time. It's not all about sex."

"No, that's just fun." Francis cupped Matthew's face and tenderly kissed him. "I will be back in time for your birthday."

"You'll be back in the _summer_?" Matthew bit his lip.

"I will try and make it back sooner, but no promises. I will for sure be here for your birthday, though." Francis hugged him tight. "You won't give up and find someone else, will you?"

"Don't be silly. Will you?"

"No." Francis wiped his cheek. "Don't cry."

Matthew nodded, but as they said goodbye, he couldn't help it.

* * *

Alfred wasn't entirely sure what to think about becoming something of a celebrity. After the dance, people around the palace started recognizing him more! Gossip was flying, and everybody was curious about him. He was rather pleased to – so far – not encounter any cruelty or jealousy. Though it raised the question, what sort of palace _was_ this? What was a palace without intrigue and backstabbing all over the place?

His first encounter was the day after Francis departed. A pair of girls, not much older than him, came giggling over to him.

"Aren't you the Queen's dance partner?" the blonde asked.

"That's right." Alfred flashed them the winning smile that had been one of his important weapons in acquiring enough money for Mattie's medicine in the old days. The girls giggled some more.

"Where are you from?" the brunette asked.

"I'm originally from Hearts."

"Ohh!" she cooed. "So far away! I've heard that's a lovely place."

"What's the palace there like?" her friend said.

Alfred scratched his head. "It looked about like this one. Probably more red inside."

"I've heard the King is nice!"

"Yeah, I've heard that too!" Alfred laughed. "We were never at war with anyone, so at least they get along with the other kingdoms."

"Um, right." The blonde exchanged a glance with her friend. "So, what about you and the Queen? What's going on?"

"He probably doesn't want me answering that..."

The girls' expression brightened. Despite the lack of answer, they seemed pleased, chatting and giggling together as they walked off. Alfred waved as they left.

After that, every day at least a couple nobles approached Alfred with questions. Some seemed more satisfied than others with his attempt at non-answers. He asked Arthur what he should do about them, and he was thoroughly unhelpful, telling Alfred to keep it up and not be too specific.

Several of them weren't so much curious about their relationship, as eager to hit on Alfred, males and females. That was a bit more awkward, though flattering. Alfred's polite rejection just seemed to make them gossip more about his and Arthur's relationship.

The most forward was a smoldering woman in a low-cut gown who cornered him one afternoon. "You're the prettiest arm candy I've seen the Queen bring in," she said, backing him into a corner.

"Oh yeah?" Alfred smiled nervously, trying to find a safe zone for his eyes to land on.

"Have you grown tired of only being with a man?"

"Um, not really..." Wait, had that been too explicit? But he couldn't very well answer in the negative, either, or she'd... yeah...

"Are you sure? The Queen does not have these." And she grabbed Alfred's hand and pressed it to her generous bosom.

"Oh, yeah!" Alfred laughed awkwardly. "Look at that. Very nice, ma'am. But I really should go."

She lowered her eyelashes, though in her case it did not come across as particularly coy. "Keep me in mind when the Queen starts to bore you."

"I sure will!" Alfred managed to escape. "Um, goodbye!"

For some reason, both Matthew and Arthur found that story hilarious. Why the hell did he tell them about that?

A few weeks after the dance and Francis' departure, Alfred was showing a new helper how to help care for the horses. "You used to be able to entertain yourself with nothing but books," Alfred said as he brushed Princess. "Now you get bored if you don't have somebody to boink."

"Will you stop talking like that?" Matthew huffed. "I'm just lonely, I miss him."

"I know." Alfred paused, watching Matthew haul a bucket of water to the trough, smiling.

"What?"

"You! I'll never get over it, look at you go."

Matthew grinned back at him. "I know..." He poured the water, humming. "Well, enough moping about my love life. How's it going with Arthur?"

"He's nice." Alfred concentrated harder on brushing the horse.

"Okay. And...?"

"And what? He's not treating me like he used to. He's nice. You asked me when you first found out, if I liked having sex with him, and I said no and you cried, and... Well, now I do, so it's not so bad, and sometimes I guess he's kind of thoughtful, and he's pretty and I'm getting used to the eyebrows, and I guess he's... well, yeah. He's nice."

"I see." Matthew smirked at him.

"What?"

"Nothing."

" _What?_ " Alfred stared at him, baffled.

"Nothing."

"You drive me crazy." Alfred set the brush aside and gave Princess a light smack on the rump. "What do you think of him?"

Matthew shrugged. "I like him better than I did when he was using you. I don't want to kill him anymore. And you're both... um..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Alfred gave him a flat stare. "Stop that."

Matthew cleared his throat. "And why does everyone have weird reactions when they meet us? It's like they've never seen twins before."

"Well, two hot guys is more impressive than one. I thought it was funny, the way Arthur was afraid to even touch me, as if I'd turn out to be you."

"I suppose his look of panic was rather amusing..." Matthew grinned. "So weren't you supposed to see him in his study soon?"

Alfred hesitated. "Yes. I remembered."

Matthew did not seem to believe that. "Go wash up."

* * *

As long as he was waiting, Arthur picked up his embroidery hoop. He couldn't remember the last time he had found the time to work on it; he used to have free time at night for that sort of thing, but lately... yeah. Definitely better than embroidery.

A knock came at the study door, and Arthur let him know he could enter. Alfred peeked his head in before stepping fully inside. "Hi!"

"Hello." Arthur swallowed thickly. He didn't want this conversation to happen, but he had been thinking a lot lately, and... it pretty much had to.

Alfred's brow furrowed as he stepped closer. "Are you embroidering?"

"Yes." Arthur held the hoop closer defensively. "I know what you're thinking."

"You do?"

"I don't have all sorts of free time. I'm busy quite often, you know. It just might seem that way because the only time you see me is when I'm free."

Alfred laughed nervously. "Oh. I wasn't thinking that. I know you're busy."

"Ah." Awkward silence. "What were you thinking, then?"

Alfred shook his head. "Nothing!"

"You were thinking something. What?"

"No, really." Alfred waved his hands.

"Tell me."

"Okaaay... I was thinking that I'm _pretty_ sure you've got a penis, since we've used it so many times, but..." He eyed the embroidery.

Arthur stuffed the hoop into a desk drawer. "Insulting the Queen's manhood should be an arrestable offense," he muttered. "But I did ask..."

"Yeah, you did." Alfred looked around wildly, presumably for an escape. "Oh, hey! I haven't seen that before." He hurried over to a large painting. "Is that you?"

"That's me."

"Look how cute you were! What are you there, ten?"

"Twelve." Arthur smiled slightly. "It was commissioned after our formal engagement."

"Oh! So the other boy is...?" He focused on the redheaded boy beside Arthur.

"Yes, that's him."

"Wow." Alfred sighed. "So you... were you in love?"

"No. We didn't love each other. We liked each other, though, so that was something."

"You were related, right?"

"Distantly." Arthur shook his head at the memories. "He picked on me something awful when we were little. Our parents thought that would just get worse when we found out we had to get married, but... it didn't."

Alfred turned to him with a frown. "They were planning on making you marry even if you hated each other?"

"Pretty much, yes." Arthur shrugged. "So it could have been worse. None of the royal couples of the other kingdoms is lovingly married."

"Oh, I know. I was telling Mattie about that the other day!"

Not surprising the boy was soaking in palace gossip. "In at least two kingdoms that I know of, one of the royals is sleeping with the Jack."

Alfred's jaw dropped. "Really? The Jack?" One could practically see the gears turning in his head, and Arthur knew what was coming next. "Are you and Yao...?"

"No, not me and Yao."

"I was just kidding!" Alfred said, a little too quickly. "So... Oh yeah! You wanted to tell me something?"

Shit. Arthur had pleasantly lost himself in the stupid banter. "That's right." He wiped his suddenly damp palms off on his trousers. "Um..."

"You don't normally summon me during the day." Alfred winked.

"Y-yeah... And that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Doing it during the day?"

Arthur grit his teeth. "No! It's just... um..." He took a deep breath. "It doesn't feel right anymore."

"What?" Alfred blinked.

"Our arrangement. I l... I like you. I just don't feel right having you come to my room each night like that anymore. You aren't my whore."

"O-oh." Alfred stared at him, eyes wide.

"So you don't have to..." Arthur couldn't look at those huge blue eyes anymore. He stared down at the scattered paperwork on his desk, wishing he hadn't stuffed his embroidery away. No, that would be rude to do. "In fact... Well, if you want, you can have your own house... A nice one, near the palace. Tino makes rounds to the nearby homes, he wouldn't even be going out of his way to care for Matt. Or you could have a house further out if you prefer, there's other good physicians, right?"

Alfred was tightly gripping the back of the chair near him. "You mean it...? Our own house?"

The eager look was like a knife in the heart. "I mean it."

"That's... I... wow." Alfred shook his head in wonder. "I don't know what to say. Thank you, Arthur."

"You're welcome." Arthur's eyes burned as he watched Alfred, looking almost giddy, turn and run from the room. That was it, no goodbye or anything. He had been freed from his end of the bargain, and he shot out like a bird with the cage door open.

His heart skipped a beat when Alfred rushed back in. But all Alfred did was hug him, gushing about how nice Arthur was and how happy Matthew was going to be, and then he was gone again.

Arthur couldn't help but remember that saying Matthew had reminded him about. _If you love something, set it free. If it returns, it's yours; if it doesn't, it never was._ The last part echoed in his head.


	13. Chapter 13

Arthur was honestly a little surprised that Alfred did not return that night. Surely he could at least... let Arthur know where he was moving, or say goodbye, or _something_. Hadn't Alfred grown to care about him, at least a little?

It was a long night of tossing and turning. The fire dwindled, but he didn't feel like getting up to spark some life back into it. Arthur kept rolling over, expecting his arm to find a warm body to pull close, and encountering nothing but more cool sheets.

He might have drowsed some in short intervals, but sleep never truly claimed him. When dawn finally started to brighten the room, Arthur still felt exhausted – emotionally as well as physically. He dragged himself out of bed and frowned at his reflection in a nearby mirror. He _looked_ tired, too. He attempted to tame the mess his hair had become, but the dark circles under his eyes would probably require a bit of makeup. He smiled at the thought of what Alfred would say about him wearing makeup; a smile which quickly fell.

Sighing heavily, Arthur prepared for his day.

* * *

"Your Majesty?"

"Hm?" Arthur looked up, blinking.

Yao nudged him. "Maybe you should pay attention?" He nodded toward the men on the other side of the table who were still blabbing away.

"Oh... What are they talking about?"

"Trade routes, Your Majesty."

"Oh."

"You agreed to open up Shield Pass."

"I did?"

Yao eyed him. "Please pay attention..."

Arthur frowned at him for a moment, then averted his eyes. "Yeah..."

"You've been like this since yesterday."

Arthur just shrugged, not about to tell Yao about a sleepless night alone in his bed, or a bland, listless morning wandering aimlessly.

"Are you hungry? I can get you something good."

"I know you can." As if on cue, Arthur's stomach growled. When was the last time he had eaten? "I'm not hungry."

Yao sighed. "If you say so, Your Majesty..."

* * *

Arthur pushed the door open and walked into his bedroom, tossing his coat onto the floor. The servants had kept the fire going, so at least the room was warm and inviting. He strode over to it, warming his hands and losing himself in watching the dancing flames.

He was tempted to send for a cute servant boy, just to have someone else in his bed. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, his stomach did an unpleasant flip, and he quickly discarded the idea.

"Cold?" Said a voice from behind him. "I have been, too. Spring's coming, at least! I just wish it would hurry." Arthur stiffened. "You know what's weird? Mattie tolerates the cold a lot better than me. I don't know why! Because I was outside in the heat more? But that doesn't make much sense, I was outside in the cold more, too."

Arthur whirled around to face Alfred, who was lounging on the bed, waiting for him as he always did on the nights Arthur was late. "Wha...?"

"Hi." Alfred grinned.

"But..." Arthur almost stumbled, his legs not wanting to hold him up. "I'd said..."

"You said I don't have to come to your bed every night. You didn't say I _couldn't_."

Arthur gaped at him like a stupid fish. "But you seemed so happy..."

"Yeah, about getting a house! That wouldn't have kept me from your bed."

He was acting like Arthur had to have known that! "Then where were you last night!?"

"Worn out from house-looking!" Alfred laughed. "But after talking about it, we think we'll stay here. We like our room, and a house would mean a lot more work for us. We don't want to have to have our own servants, so we'd be cleaning the place and caring for the garden and cooking and everything..." He trailed off. "Well... that's not entirely true." His voice had grown serious, smile falling. "I mean, the first part, I wasn't just worn out. I did think about... not coming back to you. But I spent last night all alone, and I felt... I don't know..." He avoided eye contact. "The thought of never coming back..."

He just wasn't going to finish any of his damn sentences. Arthur's heart pounded as he stared at the blushing young man. "Alfred...?"

Alfred looked up, then did a double take. "Arthur! You're crying!"

He lifted a hand to his cheek. "Oh..."

Alfred's gaze slid downward again. "Did you miss me that much?"

Arthur dashed the tears away. "Of course I did! I haven't been able to concentrate all day, who knows what idiotic ideas I've agreed to! Thank the gods there wasn't a war meeting today, I might have ended up surrendering to Diamonds without realizing it..."

"Arthur..." He rolled off the bed and strode toward him, expression serious. Arthur could only stare, dumbfounded, as he was grabbed by the collar and jerked forward. Their lips met in a firm, awkward kiss, noses bumping. Arthur tilted his head for a better angle, reaching a hand up to tangle in Alfred's hair, draw him closer. He licked at Alfred's chapped lips until the other got the hint and parted them, and Arthur slid his tongue into that sweet mouth. Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur as his mouth was thoroughly plundered, and Arthur was grateful for the support as he started to feel dizzy and giddy. He tangled their tongues together, mentally giggling at Alfred's endearing awkwardness.

Alfred finally pulled away, gasping for breath. They stared at each other for a long moment, panting. Arthur couldn't take it for very long, and was soon plastered to Alfred again, kissing his lip and then his jaw and neck. He suckled on Alfred's pulse, lapping at the salty taste of his sunkissed skin. He wasn't even aware of their fingers attacking buttons and ties until their clothes were cast aside and they were pressed skin-to-skin. They fell into bed together, kissing desperately.

Now that he had really tasted him, Arthur couldn't get enough. He kissed and licked his way down Alfred's chest, enjoying every shudder that shook his body. He latched his mouth onto a nipple, thrilled by Alfred's gasp.

It was like they were making love for the first time. Even after Arthur had realized his feelings for Alfred and their sex grew more tender, he had still respected Alfred's lack of feelings and hadn't spent much time exploring more of his body than necessary.

Arthur sat up, gazing down at the gorgeous body spread out beneath him. For so long Arthur had practically owned Alfred; now Alfred really was his. He smiled, but before he could resume marking every inch of skin as his territory, the world spun out from under him. Arthur blinked in surprise, splayed on his back and staring up at Alfred's wickedly grinning face.

"I want a taste, too," Alfred said. And before Arthur knew it, a moist tongue was tracing the outline of his ear and he moaned. Alfred chuckled, breath warm against his ear. "Sensitive there?" He nibbled on the ear for a moment, before moving on, pausing to kiss Arthur's lips.

They spent a goodly amount of time kissing, licking, nipping, sucking on every part of the body they could reach, learning all their sensitive spots. They kissed until their lungs were starved for air, then they paused to take a breath and kissed some more. They rolled all over the bed, each wanting a turn on top worshiping the other, inevitably rolling off a couple times.

Lost in a haze of bliss, Arthur blinked and shook himself out of it when he realized Alfred had said something. "What?" He was currently on his back, and looked up at his lover.

"Um..." Alfred was holding the small jar of oil. "Can I...?"

Arthur had to laugh. They really were acting like it was their first time. Alfred looked hurt, and Arthur quickly kissed him. "I'm not laughing at you. Mostly. Um..." He hesitated, wondering how to ask without hurting Al's feelings. "Well, it's kind of like we're starting over..."

"Again?"

Arthur coughed. "Yes, again."

Alfred gave a lopsided smile. "This is, like, our third or fourth first time."

"Shush. So, maybe... I could..."

"Oh, sure."

"You can go next. We've got all night."

Alfred grinned. "Right." He handed the jar over and lay back. Arthur plucked the glasses from Alfred's face and set them on the nightstand, then leaned over and kissed him. Less desperate and forceful than before, more slow and tender. He worked the oil into Alfred, enjoying the way he moaned into Arthur's mouth. Arthur broke away, dipping his head lower and suckling on Alfred's neck.

"Artie..." Alfred whined. There was a first, but Arthur was too lost in a lustful fog to care. "We did plenty of foreplay already."

"Right," Arthur said breathlessly, more than happy to oblige. He paused, looking down at Alfred, sprawled out panting and waiting. Unwanted images flashed into his head; Alfred on hands and knees, gripping the sheets, whimpering – all things that at the time had seemed like positive reactions but now he knew–Arthur shook the memories away. That was in the past, he just had to put it behind them. Alfred was there, now, needing Arthur, begging.

Arthur positioned himself between Alfred's legs, and gently pushed into him, drawing moans from them both. Sex had usually been the first thing on the agenda before; it was quite a change, waiting until he was about to go crazy. He just wanted to pound, hard and fast, but managed to control himself and kept it slow.

Until Alfred wrapped his limbs around Arthur and begged him to move faster. Arthur was slamming into him before his brain had time to process the request, and Alfred was writhing and crying out and gasping Arthur's name. He was trembling, eyes half-closed, hair already sticking to his forehead.

"You're beautiful," Arthur said.

"M-me?"

"Of course you. I did choose you over all the other men in the kingdom to be my lover."

"That's true."

Arthur had to laugh at Alfred agreeing with him.

"Don't laugh," Alfred said, and groaned. "F-faster..."

"I don't think I can," Arthur said. Intense pleasure coursed through him as he pumped his hips into the slick, tight warmth. Alfred aided him, thrusting upward, clenching his muscles, rubbing Arthur's thighs. Arthur moaned, stroking Alfred's erection.

Arthur almost thought the intense sensation would completely overwhelm him as he shuddered and moaned his way through orgasm, thrusting shallowly into Alfred as his body shook with pleasure. He paused for a long moment, panting, recovering. It occurred to him that he was coated in Alfred's seed, and he honestly couldn't remember who had come first. Oops, he was supposed to be paying more attention to Alfred's needs now... Oh well, the boy did not look particularly upset.

After they could move again, they quickly cleaned up, then returned to the bed to lay together.

Alfred lay with his head on Arthur's chest, while Arthur stroked a hand through his golden hair. He glanced down at the peaceful face with a fond smile. "Comfortable?"

"Mm." Without opening his eyes, Alfred smiled back. "Listening. Your heart's beating."

"Oh, good." Arthur traced his fingers down Alfred's face. He hesitated, biting his lip, then said, "I love you."

Alfred's eyes snapped open. "Really?"

"Really." How could he still be surprised?

"Ohh... I, um..." He sat up, looking away.

"Alfred?"

"I..."

Arthur reached out to touch his back, knowing what the problem was. "Al, lay back down. I'm not going to be upset if you aren't ready to say it back."

Alfred hesitantly returned to laying on Arthur's chest. "Okay..." His eyes drifted shut again. "I've never been in love before."

"Neither have I." And while it wasn't the best feeling in the world, to confess your love and not have it returned, Arthur wasn't _too_ worried. Alfred would figure it out. And Arthur was too stupidly happy to let that spoil his night.

* * *

Arthur carefully snatched the lumps off the fire with tongs, depositing them onto a plate. "There," he said to himself. "I _can_ cook..."

A servant looked up from her mixing bowl. "Were you talking to me, Your Majesty?"

Arthur tried to give her a dismissive look, but doubted it was very successful. "No."

"Would you like me to fix some scones for you?" she said, eyeing the plate in his hands.

"No! I made them!"

"Sorry," she squeaked, curtseying low.

Arthur left the kitchen with his scones, lamenting how hard it was to find good help these days. Polite help, anyway. He swept through the halls, ignoring the bowing heads he passed, until he reached the correct door and waited for a servant to open it for him.

"Do you _mind_?" Matthew quickly finished pulling his shirt on. Then he realized who had walked in. "Um. Your Majesty..."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before," Arthur assured him.

"On somebody else; that's not quite the same." Matthew dropped onto his bed with a sigh. "Well, at least you didn't drop in a moment ago..." He smiled slightly. "So what brings you here? I thought Al was with you."

"He was. I assume he'll be back here soon. I made you boys something."

Matthew eyed him and his plate. "What's that?"

"Scones, of course."

"You made those yourself?" Matthew's smile grew strained. "Wow. I don't know what to say. A cooking queen..."

"You're welcome." Arthur set the plate down. He stepped closer to Matthew, settling down on the bed next to his. "So..."

"Oh, you wanted to talk." Matthew sat upright, watching him patiently.

"Um..." It was amazing, ever since Alfred had come into his life, how many awkward conversations Arthur had been forced to endure. "Well... thanks."

"For what?"

Arthur found a loose button to play with on his coat. "Alfred didn't say anything about you. He didn't even mention you – well, except for talking about house-buying discussion – but I had a feeling. Some of the conclusions he reached, about me and why I sent him away and all that... It just doesn't seem like he would have reached them on his own, you know? I mean... it's Alfred."

"Did everything work out?" Matthew said. Avoiding the topic entirely, but Arthur wasn't going to press. The lack of an outright denial was answer enough.

"Oh yes."

"I'm glad." Matthew stood, walking over to sample one of the scones. "Oh. My."

Arthur warmed at that positive response. "You like them?"

Matthew chewed for a moment, swallowed, and coughed. "Wow. Where did you learn to cook?"

"That wasn't something they felt a noble should learn, so I taught myself."

"Ah." Matthew nodded. "Well it shows."

Arthur smiled. "Thank you."

* * *

After the Queen left, Matthew grabbed the glass of water he kept beside his bed and gulped some down. How could something that was so burned on the outside be so raw inside? They must have been stuck directly into an inferno. So Alfred hadn't been exaggerating about the meat patty...

Soon enough, Alfred came bounding into the room, looking so utterly smitten Matthew almost laughed. "Well look at you!"

Alfred beamed at him, then reached for a scone.

"Don't."

"Oh." He quickly withdrew his hand. "Thanks." Humming merrily, Alfred fetched his work clothes from the dresser drawer, holding them up and inspecting them for wearability. "Hey, Matt?"

"Hm?"

"How do you know when you're in love?"

Matthew stifled a groan. Why, _why_ did he have to be the relationship adviser for _both_ of them? They were both morons, and they were apparently made for each other. "Um... you just know?"

"But how?"

Oh dear. "Well... do you like being with him, and miss him when you're apart?"

"I wasn't talking about anybody specific!"

Matthew leveled a flat look at him. "Al..."

"Sorry." Alfred stared at the ceiling, pondering. "Yes."

"Is his happiness more important than your own?"

Alfred's smile fell, just a little. "Why can't we both be happy?"

"That's not what I mean... oh, nevermind."

"No, I know what you mean! Yes, I want him to be happy. If meat-producing animals went extinct and he wanted the last burger, I'd give it to him."

That was actually quite sweet. But Matthew _was_ Alfred's twin, and a mischievous part of him had to ask, "What if I wanted it, too?"

Alfred threw him a panicked look. "I suppose I could cut it in half."

Matthew smiled. "Okay. You enjoy being with him, you put his needs and happiness first – right?"

"Yeah."

"Though he's royalty and you aren't so I doubt that will ever come up..."

"Matt!"

"Does he make you feel good and your heart beat faster and your legs wobbly?"

"Sort of! I feel all nervous and flustered but it's not bad."

Matthew scooted closer to Alfred to pat his shoulder. "Well I think it sounds like you are, but it's up to you. You shouldn't have to analyze it..."

Alfred nodded, looking torn between happiness and panic, somehow. "What do I do? He told me he loves me and I didn't say it back."

Matthew rubbed his head. "So say it. Give him a gift and tell him." And then hopefully everything would be straightened out and everybody would be happy.

Everybody whose boyfriend lived nearby, anyway.

"Okay. What should I give him?"

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

The doors swung open as Alfred approached, and he flattened himself against the closest wall as a group of snobby looking folks emerged from the throne room. He hid the roses behind his back, but they didn't even notice him as they swept by. He slipped inside as the large doors started to swing shut.

"Oi, Yao, there's nobody else, is there?" Arthur was saying. He was slumped in the smaller of two thrones. "That had to be the most annoying bunch of windbags – Al?" He sat up straight, blinking when he realized someone else had slunk into the room. "What are you doing here?"

Alfred swallowed, afraid Arthur would be angry for being disturbed during the day. "Um..." He stepped closer. "You're not busy, are you?"

"Not at the moment." Arthur straightened out his jacket, which looked fine already. "Is everything okay?"

Alfred whipped the roses out from behind his back, almost smacking Arthur in the face. "I love you."

Backing away from the flowers, it seemed to take Arthur a moment to process the statement. "What?"

"I said... I love you." Blushing, Alfred glanced at Yao, who was toying with his clip-on plush bear and pretending not to listen.

Arthur's stern work-face broke into a smile. "And you had to come here right now and tell me?"

"I'm sorry, I should have waited-" He was interrupted by Arthur tugging him close for a kiss. Alfred set the flowers down on the throne beside them as he was dragged onto Arthur's lap. He was only dimly aware of Yao slipping out of the room as they pressed together, mouths intimately tangled.


	14. Chapter 14

"He's so hard to find during the day," Alfred said to himself as he wandered through the halls. "Why can't we see each other whenever we want like a normal couple?" The weeks since he had confessed his feelings to Arthur had gone by in a happy haze. His day life had not changed, he still worked in the stables while Matthew... well, without his boyfriend around, he did a lot of moping and reading and eating. If he didn't watch it, he would start getting soft around the middle! Mattie still studied Francis' native language, which seemed pretty stupid when they were in Spades and had no need to converse in that particular tongue. Even weirder, he still studied the Clubs language, too. Alfred had a feeling Matthew was just showing off. He'd probably try to find casual ways of inserting the fact that he knew all the languages of the kingdoms into casual conversation, and...

How had he gotten onto _that_ topic when he was thinking about Arthur?

"Alfred!" A woman in a plain dress and kerchief tied on her auburn hair waved to him.

"Oh, hi!" He waved back, hoping the fact that he couldn't keep the names of all the maids and servants straight would not come up.

"I knew it was true!"

That didn't bode well, even if she was grinning. "What was?"

"You and Arthur! Congratulations!"

"Ohh..." Alfred felt his cheeks warm. "Um. Thanks."

She winked. "You're the best man I've seen him take a liking to."

Alfred blinked. "The _best_ man?" How many had there _been_? Oh well, he was the Queen...

"By far!"

"So it's true, then?"

Alfred yelped and whirled around, finding himself facing a curious guard. "Um, yes."

"Good for you, lad!"

Alfred sagged. He was _really_ glad the people of Spades were thus far happy with the Queen's choice of consort instead of jealous or angry. Maybe it would be different with young nobles? He hadn't seen too many evil glances sent in his direction... Time would tell.

Another guard was walking over, so Alfred politely made his escape while he still could. He located the door he had been looking for, and wandered in, giving the room a quick scan. "Not here, either..." So Arthur wasn't in his throne room, or in his study. "Well how dare he have a life outside of me?" Chuckling to himself, Alfred turned to leave, when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A note lay on the desk, and that could very well have been left by Arthur explaining where he was. Alfred strolled over to the desk and plucked up the piece of paper, scanning its contents.

Reading and writing were handy methods of communicating. Alfred should have learned ages ago!

However, the note had nothing to do with the Queen's whereabouts. It read:

  
_ Birthday Party Ideas _   
  
_Things Alfred likes:_   
_-burgers_   
_-fireworks_   
_-games_   
  
_Things Matt likes:_   
_- ~~books~~ (already gave him a book, he'll think that's all I know about him)_   
_- ~~his boyfriend~~ (that doesn't help!)_   
_-ask Al what Matt likes_

Alfred burst out laughing. That man! Planning a party for them, how sweet. "I know I've told him before that Mattie likes sweets..."

"Al!"

He jerked his head up, surprised to see Arthur standing in the doorway. "Oh... um, sorry."

"You're snooping!" Arthur hurried closer and snatched the paper away.

Alfred gave him a sheepish look. "I thought you might have left me a note..."

"Ah." Arthur huffed a sigh. "I think I might have liked it better when you were illiterate."

"Sorry!"

"But I suppose I shouldn't leave things that are supposed to be a surprise laying around..."

Alfred nodded. "That's true. So, a party! Our birthday isn't for a couple months still, you know."

"I know." Arthur set the list aside. "But these things can take time to plan."

"Oh, we don't need a lot of fuss!"

"Yes you do."

Alfred blinked. He sounded serious... "We really don't. We aren't nobles, we aren't used to such-"

"You deserve it," Arthur's mouth was set in a firm line.

"Um, thanks Artie, really, but-"

"No buts!" Arthur walked away, staring out the window. "It makes me mad. You grew up having such amazing birthdays in Hearts."

"That was really more of a coincidence..." Alfred said, but Arthur either didn't hear or didn't care.

"Then you move here, have one birthday that was probably dull, and then nothing! You spend them sitting in the dirt, while your brother's just trying to stay alive. Your sixteenth birthday should have been special... So your seventeenth will have to do."

Alfred gaped at his back for a moment, then stepped closer to spin Arthur around and kiss him. "You're so sweet."

Arthur looked flustered, cheeks reddening. "W-well..."

"I love that little things like that piss you off!"

"It's not little..." Arthur muttered.

Alfred grinned. "I'm sure it'll be great, no matter what."

He came to regret it, though. Just a little. As the weeks wore on and Alfred saw less and less of his lover because free time that used to be spent with Alfred was now spent planning a citywide fair... well, he just had to hope it would be worth it.

* * *

"Francis!" Matthew flung himself at his newly arrived lover, clinging tightly. "I missed you so much, it felt like forever, I thought you were going to return sooner!"

Francis held him closer. "I said I'd try. Things came up... But I'm here now, I will be here for a few weeks."

Matthew kissed him fiercely. "Move here. Please, there's so many nice places..."

"I can't..." Francis stroked Matthew's cheek. "I cannot abandon my family's estate."

Matthew stared at the ground, tempted to ask to join Francis at his home. But... he couldn't. He was afraid to travel long distances, even if Tino agreed to go (and Matt couldn't ask that of him!) And he'd be abandoning his only family, and all his new friends, and...

He didn't know what to do.

"I can't stand this." His eyes burned, and he bit his lip and tried to force the tears away. "I've missed you like crazy." He gulped. "Is this our relationship, Francis? You leave for months at a time, return for a week or two, then another sad goodbye?"

Francis was starting to look panicked. "Are you breaking it off?"

Matthew flinched at the stab of guilt. "I don't want to... I love you."

"I love you, too!" Francis kissed him again. "You've just missed me, you're emotional."

"And I'm sure I'll be fine and happy once I'm used to having you back," Matthew agreed. "And then you'll be leaving again and we'll start all over. I don't know if I can do this..."

"I don't want to keep hurting you..." Francis heaved a sigh. "Please, Mathieu, one more chance. If you tell me it's over the next time I visit, I will agree with you. If you tell me you've met someone else, I will dance with you at your wedding if you like."

"Francis..."

"Just give us a chance," Francis begged. "It's hard on me, too, but I like to think that we'll make it work somehow. Let's enjoy our time together. Don't remember the nights without me, remember the time we watched fireworks together, or baked together, or all the times we held each other."

Matthew slowly nodded. "All right..." It broke his heart to see Francis so desperate. He deserved more than being given up on as soon as Matthew felt it was starting to get hard. Those were happy memories, and he wanted to make more, to overpower the bad.

Francis was probably right; Matthew was letting his emotions of the moment get the better of him. Things would improve. Right?

"I'll try and visit more often."

"Okay."

"Now let's go find something fun, forget about missing each other." Francis slung an arm around Matthew's shoulders. "Tell me everything I've missed."

Trying to push away depressing thoughts, Matthew managed a smile. "The Queen is throwing us a rather large celebration."

"Really?" That seemed to genuinely puzzle Francis.

"Al and the Queen are in love."

Francis blinked. "Oh my..."

"Like you're surprised."

"No." He laughed. "I suppose not. Oh, there's a pub over there, maybe some-"

"Your room," Matthew said. He may be feeling upset and emotional, but... he was still a man.

"Oh?"

"I hate to sound like that's all I'm interested in, but I haven't slept with anybody since you left months ago..."

"To my room," Francis agreed.

* * *

"Happy birthday!" Alfred plunked the package down on Matthew's lap. "Open it, open it!"

"Okay," Matthew said with a laugh. He tore the paper off and peeked into the box, laughing helplessly again when he realized what the white fluff inside belonged to. "Oh no..." He lifted out the plush bear. "You didn't."

"I did!" Alfred grinned.

"You remembered."

"Well of course I did, the guilt has been eating at me for years!"

Matthew's smile quickly fell. "I knew it was you who lost my bear."

"Well, yeah." Alfred rubbed the back of his neck.

"You swore up and down you didn't!"

Alfred swatted at Matthew. "I was seven! It'd have been weirder if I _hadn't_ denied it."

"True..."

"Give this one a nice, short name. One you can actually remember."

"I will." Matthew set the bear aside and picked up another present, handing it to his brother. "There you go. Happy birthday."

Eager grin fixed in place, Alfred ripped into his present. The grin grew strained as he beheld what lay within the paper. "A book." He lifted his eyes. "Artie was right. I should have stayed illiterate."

"What?" Matthew frowned. "He said that?"

"Well, he was joking."

"You don't like it?"

"I'm not exactly a reader, just because I can. It's so big..." He held it up, scanning the cover. "Court et..." His forehead wrinkled as he concentrated.

"Etiquette."

"Matt!" Alfred whined.

He should have known practical gifts would be lost on his brother. "What? It could be helpful!"

"You aren't supposed to give helpful gifts for birthdays!"

"Oh, fine..." Matthew reached for it, but Alfred held the book away with a flash of guilt across his face.

"I'll read it."

"You don't have to." Matthew laughed helplessly. "I didn't know what to get! In your position, you can have anything you want."

Alfred hesitated, staring at the book. "Buy me a candied apple when we're out?"

"Deal."

"Okay."

They laughed together for a time, teasing each other about their choice of gifts, and the benefits of giving each other suggestions in the future. But soon enough it was time to get going. They had a celebration to get to!

"So nobody really knows this is for our birthday, right?" Matthew brushed his hair – grown even longer recently, quite possibly for a certain long-haired somebody.

"Right. Arthur didn't want people wondering what's with all the fuss just for us, so he didn't say anything. I'm not sure what bull he came up with, but..."

"People will be wondering instead why we're now celebrating Hearts holidays." Matthew laughed.

"I guess so! Oh well, they're the only kingdom Spades is on good terms with." Alfred slipped into some nice but basic clothes. "So when are you two going to join us?"

"Early evening."

Alfred nodded. "Okay. I'll make sure we're by the central market around that time."

"Right. We'll find you." Satisfied with his appearance, Matthew waved goodbye and headed out of the room, off to find his boyfriend, while Alfred prepared to do the same.

* * *

"Oh look, over there!" Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand – again – and dragged him toward another booth. He grinned over his shoulder at the ridiculous-looking Queen. The disguise had been Alfred's idea, not wanting their fun to be spoiled by the people fearing, bowing to, catering to, or whatever to their ruler. Disguises were harder to come by in the summer months, when scarves and cloaks were out of place, but Arthur had refused to leave the palace in a floppy sun hat and large sunglasses. And so Alfred had donned a similar disguise to make him feel better. And Alfred looked twice as ridiculous, sunglasses over regular glasses.

"Win me a prize," Alfred said. Arthur stared at him, and then at the fellow manning the booth who offered a set of small balls.

"I just knock over the bottles, then?"

"That's right," the man said with the patient tone of one who has been answering silly questions all day. "From the line."

"Oh, that's easy." Arthur backed up to the line chalked onto the grass, and launched the first ball into the booth.

Alfred nudged him. "You're supposed to hit the bottles."

"I think I liked it better when you feared me..." Arthur said under his breath.

"I heard that." Alfred rolled his eyes. The 'I liked it better when you...' jokes were already wearing a bit thin. Next time Arthur made one, he'd remind him that when he was like _that_ , he didn't like Arthur.

The next pitch was closer, and the final ball grazed the bottle perched on top and set it to wobbling. But that was it. "They'd let me win if they knew who I was..."

"Hence the disguise." Laughing, Alfred accepted the balls from the man after he finished collecting them. "Okay, I'll win _you_ a prize."

Nobody, least of all Arthur, was surprised that the bottles were sent toppling to the ground with Alfred's second throw. He accepted the plush pink rabbit with a wide grin, and offered the toy to Arthur.

"Thank you," Arthur said. "What do I do with it now?"

"Carry it," Alfred said. "Put it in your room when we get back."

"Ah."

He glanced into the crowd, where he knew they were being discretely followed. "Maybe one of the guards could win me a prize."

"Shut it. I'll win something." Arthur stalked off, and Alfred hurried after him. He couldn't help but laugh quietly to himself. Nobody would think the man with the goofy get-up and the pink bunny could possibly be the Queen!

Arthur passed by a booth selling snacks, presumably on the hunt for a game that looked like one he could win. He stopped, however, not far from a house that seemed to have been included in the festivities, judging by the large sign and line of people in front of it.

"Let's go in there," Arthur said, tilting his head as he stared at the house.

Alfred wasn't sure what looked so interesting about somebody's house. "Why?"

"It's a haunted house."

"What?" Alfred took several steps back, eyes widening.

Arthur sighed. "It's an attraction, Al. It's part of the fair."

"I'd rather not."

"Why?" He turned, expression hidden by the large sunglasses and shadows from his hat.

"No reason!" Still backing away, Alfred gave a dismissive wave. "It just looks dumb."

Arthur's lips curved. "You're scared."

"I am not!"

"You are." He glanced over his shoulder toward the house. "It's most likely been decorated with old furniture and fake cobwebs, and filled with cloth ghosts and people in costume. And you're scared."

"I am not!" Alfred insisted. "Did you say there's ghosts?"

"Cloth ghosts..."

"Ah." Alfred backed away a few more steps. "Oh, look over there! Let's watch the puppet show instead."

"Oh, Al..."

"Mattie can go in the boring house with you later." Alfred firmly walked over to the puppet stage that was surrounded by enthusiastic viewers. The wooden puppets bouncing around amidst the colorful small scenery had some exchange of dialogue that sent giggles rippling through the audience, so Alfred stepped closer to hear better.

It was then that he realized the yellow hair and large eyebrows on one of the puppets looked rather familiar.

"I don't want to watch this," Arthur said. But when Alfred turned to him, Arthur was smiling. Alfred smiled back and took his hand, squeezing lightly. The Queen puppet attacked the other with a tiny sword, yelling in a high-pitched voice, and Arthur laughed.

Alfred joined the infectious laughter, gleefully watching the puppets cavort, and frequently watching Arthur enjoy the show.

* * *

Matthew waited patiently outside the inn room's door, bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet, flowers held behind his back. He heard shuffling footsteps from within, and smiled as the door swung open. "Hello there – oh!" He frowned in dismay. "Francis, you don't look too good." The poor fellow looked a little green, his smile forced. "Don't tell me you're sick!" Matthew held the back of his hand to Francis' face. "You don't feel warm."

"Probably just something I ate," Francis said. "I'll be fine."

"Do you... do you want to stay h-"

"Don't be silly!" He stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind him. "I would not miss your birthday for the world."

Matthew handed him the bouquet. "Let me know as soon as you need to sit down or come back."

"I will be fine," Francis said again. He sniffed the flowers, and returned into his room to set them down somewhere. Matthew waited again, until Francis reemerged, and a fit of giggles escaped. "You're laughing at me!"

"I'm sorry." Matthew couldn't stop. Francis was wearing large sunglasses and even larger hat. "Alfred was making Arthur dress just like that when I last saw them. I wasn't expecting it on someone as fashion-conscious as you."

Francis heaved a world-weary sigh. "Even the fashion-conscious can be fair-skinned, you know."

"I see." Matthew led the way from the inn, out into the celebratory crowd. They paused to watch a group of excited children show off the designs painted on their faces. An elderly couple walked past, the woman grinning as she held her teddy bear close. Francis leaned in for a kiss, and Matthew backed away.

"Hey..." Francis pouted.

"You're sick!"

"Now where do you get off calling me that when you... oh." Francis laughed. "You mean literally. Yes, of course, I'll keep it to myself."

Matthew couldn't help but laugh with him. "Thank you."

"So what shall we do first?" Francis looked around, scoping out the nearest activities. "There's a group of musicians over there."

"There's a hayride," Matthew said, peering in the opposite direction.

"A bumpy hayride... Maybe not right now."

"Oh." Matthew giggled. "Right."

They ended up settling down in the grass to watch the musicians play. That seemed the safest choice. Matthew leaned against Francis, fighting back the usual wave of sadness that this would not last. He must have sighed or something, because Francis gave him a squeeze.

"It will be all right," he murmured. "And I think that if you feel lonely while I am away, you should go ahead and find somebody to do you."

"Francis!" Matthew gasped. "What a thing to suggest! You're joking right?"

Francis shook his head. "I'm serious! If you need someone to keep you company for a night, for sex or just to hold, that's okay."

"Francis! I... I couldn't..."

"You don't need to give me an answer. I'm just saying that it's okay if you decide to." He chuckled. "If I come back to you and you've learned some new moves, all the better!"

"You're terrible." As if being with someone else would help!

It wouldn't, right? No, of course not!

That wasn't what Francis was doing, was it...?

They returned their attention to the musicians, not speaking any more of that particular subject, only murmuring the occasional endearment. When the song was over, they stood and wandered further into the crowd. Matthew stopped to purchase some candy, wondering what would be safe for Francis to eat. He doubted broth would be a popular fair treat. He browsed the other knickknacks vendors were selling, toys and canned fruit and jewelry. He did a double take when he realized the dolls one vendor had on display seemed to be of Arthur!

"Oh wow." he picked one up, laughing. "I didn't think the Queen was vain enough to ask for something like this to be sold."

"Oh, I don't get specifically invited," the friendly-seeming fellow said. "You'd be surprised how much money I make with these."

"Really?" Matthew raised an eyebrow.

Francis plucked the doll out of his hands, examining it. A smile spread across his face, looking almost wolfish. "I'll take one."

"You will? _Why_?"

"No reason." Francis handed a coin to the vendor and tucked the doll away.

"You're weird, love."

"I know." Francis took his arm and led him away. "Oh, look. Do you like clowns?"

"They're okay." They headed that way, passing a vendor who was busy dipping food into boiling oil over a fire.

"Oh..." Francis made a face. "That doesn't smell good."

"Sorry! Let's get past it."

"I shouldn't have stolen that candy of yours..."

"Francis!"

"Maybe... maybe I _should_ head back..."

Matthew's face fell. Of all the days... "All right." They paused, staring awkwardly at each other. "Um. I'd offer to go with you any other time, but..."

"It's okay." Francis leaned close again, and Matthew backed away again. "Ah, right." He chuckled. "No, I would not expect you to even offer to miss your own event! Go have fun with the other birthday boy."

"But you were supposed to be there, too..."

"I know." Francis sighed. "I will make it up to you when I am feeling better.

"Okay." Not knowing what else to do, Matthew patted Francis' shoulder. Smiling weakly, Francis turned and hobbled off with a groan, and Matthew turned to find something else to do. It wasn't yet early evening, where would Arthur and Alfred be?

He glanced over his shoulder once, and could have sworn he saw Francis walking perfectly normal as he weaved his way through the crowd. He shook his head with a smile, not giving it a second thought as he hunted for his brother.

* * *

It seemed like a miracle that Matthew _actually found them_. He had taken a wild guess and wandered over to the area that seemed mostly populated with gaming booths, and there they were – goofy glasses, hats and all – standing at one of those booths. The shorter of the pair leaned closer and did... something. Threw something, hit something, Matthew was too far away to tell. Then he took a quick step backward, as if in shock, and Alfred started bouncing and clapping before hugging Arthur. Whoever was manning the booth handed a plush toy to Alfred, who hugged it.

"Hello," Matthew said as he approached. "I can't believe I was able to find you."

"Matt!" Alfred looked around in a mild panic. "I didn't think it was so late! I'm sor-"

"It's not," Matthew said quickly. "I'm early."

"Ohh..." He smiled in relief. "Okay. Where's loverboy?"

Matthew made a face. "Sick. The idiot's sick. We hung out for a while, but he finally had to go back..."

"Oh no!"

"I know, could he have possibly picked a better time?" Matthew shook his head. "Well, something exciting seemed to be happening." He gestured toward the toy Alfred was hugging.

"It's the first thing he's won for me!" Alfred said with a broad grin, while Arthur just scowled. Matthew had a hunch eyes were rolling behind his sunglasses.

"So you haven't won anything yet?"

"Don't be silly," Alfred scoffed. He nodded toward something behind Matthew, and he turned to look. A couple of plainly dressed men Matthew recognized as guards were standing there, arms loaded with toys.

"That's one use for them..." Matthew said. "Though isn't that dangerous if something comes up?"

"They can drop them," Alfred said. "There's nothing breakable."

"I see."

"Hey, you owe me a candied apple!"

Matthew laughed. "So I do."

They strolled the fair grounds, eating and shopping and playing games. Alfred insisted on winning some toys for Matthew, too. So Matthew returned the favor, which just seemed to annoy Arthur more. They had planned on something special for dinner, but after snacking all day they just weren't hungry for it.

Much like Matthew's date with Francis for the winter festival, they watched the night's fireworks seated on a hill. Matthew couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as he watched his brother out of the corner of his eye, laying on his back with his head pillowed on Arthur's lap. Arthur was smiling as he combed a hand through Alfred's hair.

He shook the negative thoughts away. He and Francis had had a thousand such tender moments. And they would have more, too. Probably tomorrow, if he was feeling better. No need to be envious, he was happy for Alfred.

"I'm pretty sure he's asleep," Arthur murmured, only a few minutes after the last firework had faded.

Matthew glanced over at his brother, curled up on Arthur's lap. "He can be almost likeable sometimes."

"When he's quiet and unconscious?" Arthur smiled. "We should head back soon. People are going to get suspicious of the sunglasses at night. And I'm tired."

"Me, too." Matthew looked down at his armload of stuffed toys. "What should we do with our winnings? Donate them?"

Arthur sighed. "Al's probably named all of them by now."

"Possibly. We'll donate them, I'll talk to Al."

"Oh good." Arthur shook Alfred awake – or tried to. In the end, he simply stood up and let Alfred's head fall to the ground.

"Ow..."

"Time to go home," Arthur said.

"Oh right." Alfred blinked, retrieving both pairs of glasses from the grass.

Arthur watched him fumble around with a small smile. "Happy birthday, boys..."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is more of a... highlights of the year, or something, so lots of time jumps for now. It's the more detailed way of saying "And several months passed." XD Assume that at least some weeks pass between each scene.

Matthew stepped closer to a vendor's booth, tapping his chin as he considered the wares. It seemed to be mostly produce, but he could do something with that. His eyes fell on a bowl of glistening apples, and he selected a couple, reminded of the days when one of those would be the entire meal for both of them. He handed over some coins, added the apples to his bag, and moved on to the next booth.

Alfred was already investigating the selection of cheeses when Matthew approached, apparently trying to decide between one with holes and one without, knowing him. Or maybe not; after dining with Arthur he had probably picked up a thing or two about food. Maybe even manners. He might even know what all the silverware was for.

"Oh, how cute," the vendor said, and Matthew looked up. She was giving them a matronly smile. "Are you boys twins?"

Alfred blinked at her, then turned to Matthew in surprise. "Whoa, who are _you_?" The woman looked baffled.

Matthew rolled his eyes and dragged Alfred away. "You're such an idiot."

"Well _really_. Ask a stupid question..."

"You didn't really want that cheese, did you?"

"Nah."

"Do we have enough, then? I got some fruit."

Alfred peered into his own bag, and nodded. "Looks picnicky enough."

"Okay." The weather was pleasant, they were both feeling restless, so they had decided to spend the day outdoors. Shopping, mainly, but after their grumbling stomachs had convinced them to stop for a bite to eat, they had settled on the picnic idea.

The park was bustling with activity. Couples and families and pets were enjoying the lovely day together, playing and eating and splashing in the large spade-shaped fountain. A rather muscular fellow sans shirt walked by with his dog, and the brothers paused to watch him pass, before shaking themselves and getting back to work. Matthew spread the blanket, and Alfred retrieved the food from their bags.

"When did you buy wine?" Matthew picked the bottle up, examining the label. From Hearts. Their wine wasn't bad. The best was from Diamonds, but that wasn't readily available for obvious reasons. Francis, though, always seemed to have some on hand. He must have brought over a generous supply when he left his own kingdom behind.

"When you were swooning over the sweets."

"I did not swoon." Matthew lay back, relaxing, and Alfred quickly joined him.

"What do you think that one looks like?" Alfred said, pointing upward.

Matthew's eyes automatically sought out what he was gesturing toward. "Aren't we a little old for the cloud game?"

"No."

"A cucumber."

"Oh." Alfred giggled. "Yours is better, let's go with that."

Matthew decided not to ask. He sat up so he could eat something, selecting one of the apples he had purchased. Alfred went right for the sausage. They ate in companionable silence, looking around and people-watching.

Not far away, a pair of young women were seated at their own picnic, and quietly embraced. One whispered in the other's ear; giggling, they both headed off toward a forested area.

"You don't think...?" Alfred said in a hushed voice. "Wow. Even girls can be naughty."

"Well of course they can." Matthew poured himself a glass of wine, wondering where he could set it that would be safe. "Everyone is."

"Not you."

Matthew was glad he hadn't actually taken a sip yet. "Um..."

Alfred gave him a firm look. "Not you. I know I tease you about it, but..."

"Al..." His face grew hot. "Surely you don't somehow think I'm a virgin still."

"Nooo..." He stared down at the blanket. "But you guys are pretty vanilla, right?"

They could not be having this conversation. "Are you?" He honestly did not want to know the answer to that, but if one of them had to be the focus, he would prefer it was Alfred.

"Well, I guess not, uh. We... do stuff."

"Oh." Matthew toyed with his wine glass, tracing his finger around the rim.

"Someday, I'd really like to do it on the throne."

Matthew looked up, staring at his blushing brother. "Where did _that_ come from?"

"Idunno. Just telling you my dreams."

"Don't!"

Alfred hunched his shoulders. "But you guys are pretty vanilla, right?" he pressed.

Matthew sighed. It didn't seem he would be able to escape. "Right. We are."

"I knew it." Alfred looked relieved.

Matthew couldn't help but feel a bit of annoyance by that. Like he was really going to stay pure just to maintain his brother's mental image of him. "But you know..."

"Hm?"

"Just because a person's favorite food is nice, sweet, fluffy pancakes, doesn't mean they can't wish for a tough steak once in awhile."

Alfred gaped at him. "I don't even want to know what that means!"

That was one way to get Alfred to shut up about it. Matthew turned his attention to the other park-goers again, watching a pair of dogs chase each other. It was pleasant, just the two of them hanging out. It reminded him of family outings in Hearts, when they would see a play, go shopping, view the festive decorations that made the town center look like it was a holiday all year long. Pick up some popular treats like pie and popcorn and head for their own park for a picnic. The young brothers spent about half the time playing together and having a great time (the other half of the time would be spent, well, acting like young brothers...)

It had been on one such outing that their father had broken the news to them that he would be better able to provide for his family in his homeland of Spades, and they would find new friends, and of _course_ they would like it just as much.

"Matt?"

He shook himself. "Sorry, what?"

Alfred laughed. "I was just wondering where you were."

"Sorry," Matthew repeated with a smile.

"Hey, Matt?"

"Yes?"

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been wondering. Where are you and Francis going?"

"Going?" Matthew cocked his head to the side. "Nowhere. I can't travel."

"No, not go like that." Alfred looked even more flustered. "With you two. You know. I mean, it can't be the way it is forever, right? Do you plan on... marrying, or anything?"

"Oh..." Quite honestly, Matthew did not really think that far ahead. At any given moment, his main concern was when the next time he would see Francis would be. "Well, no, I don't think our situation is permanent. I hope not. I mean, he talks like it isn't." He sighed. "I almost broke it off with him, you know."

"Really?" Alfred's eyes went comically wide.

"When he came back, and I'd missed him so much, and was thinking we couldn't have a relationship where all we did was miss each other. But... I guess that was silly, right? We love each other, and I should be more patient. We'll figure it out."

"And get married?"

"I don't know," Matthew admitted. "Maybe."

"You should. Then you can have kids!" He actually sounded excited. "I mean, someone has to continue the family, and I can never marry, so..."

Matthew winced. He said that so casually! It didn't seem to bother Alfred all that much that his relationship could go no further. "Maybe Arthur can change the law so that you can make use of breeding servants if you're in a committed relationship, but don't necessarily have to get married."

Alfred smiled a lopsided smile. "I doubt that would work."

"Well, let's worry about that later." Matthew picked up a piece of candy. "We have our whole lives to have kids. I'm just thinking about the next time I see Francis, and what I want to do with him." Alfred grimaced at that, and Matthew could practically see his brain turning the 'with' into a 'to'. "Like what restaurant to take him to."

"Oh, right." Alfred turned to watch a little boy run by with a kite. "When will that be?"

"Late autumn..."

"I see." Alfred sounded sad, and Matthew didn't blame him. So few visits in one year? And it was doubtful he'd be able to return so soon after, in time for the Festival again in the winter. "You'll figure it out. You always do."

* * *

A corner of the dining hall had been turned into a makeshift pub for those that preferred not to leave the safety of the palace to venture out and find a real pub with the riffraff. Morning was the best time to visit, while everyone else was preparing for their day and it was far too early to join their friends for a drink. It was too early for Alfred to get a drink, too, but he enjoyed the atmosphere and the quiet with his manly cup of milk.

"Here you go." The serving boy plopped a stack of pancakes down in front of Alfred. "Enjoy."

"Thanks," Alfred said, wielding his fork. He was only a few bites in when footsteps and laughter let him know he would no longer be dining alone. Ah well, it was nice while it lasted.

"Hey, look who it is!" one of the voices said. Alfred glanced over his shoulder to see four men walking in, two guards and two nobles. He winced in anticipation. Alfred had always suspected his position would one day get him in trouble, and that quartet looked like trouble.

They joined him at his table, grinning. One of the guards sampled a bit of syrup from the edge of the plate.

"What do you want?" Alfred said, ready for a fight.

"To talk," said a grinning noble. "Come on, spill it. What's he like?"

"Huh?" Alfred blinked at them.

"You know." He made a vague gesture. "In bed."

"Ohh..." Alfred coughed. Okay, so maybe they weren't going to pick on him? He relaxed, letting out a mental sigh. Though he wasn't out of the woods yet; that question... "Um."

"Who tops more?" the other noble asked.

"Er..."

"Come on, it's okay. He didn't swear you to secrecy, did he?"

That was true, he really hadn't... "Well..."

A third noble joined them, dragging another chair over, creating an awful noise on the wooden floor. Where had he come from? "I think, boys, the better question would be..." He winked at everyone in general. "Has he improved?"

Alfred didn't join in the raucous laughter, gaping at the group. "No way."

The newcomer nodded, grinning wider than anyone. "Several years ago. He was fairly unskilled, I was probably his first after his husband died."

"O-oh..." All eyes were on him, smiles eager. "Well, um, I'd say he's improved. I think he's good."

"On a scale of one to ten?" a guard said.

Alfred stared down at his pancakes. Took a bite, because he'd be damned if he let their need for gossip let his breakfast grow cold. "I don't know."

"Why not?"

Alfred mentally bashed them over the head for pressing. "I've never been with anyone else."

To his surprise, that wasn't cause for insults or teasing. Well, not much teasing, anyway, and it was mostly of a friendly nature.

"So, um..." Once the friendly teasing died down, Alfred tried shifting the conversation away from himself. "So has the Queen had a lot of lovers?" He realized he had said something wrong when everyone exchanged a glance, then snickered. "What?"

"No," the third noble said. "Just you."

Alfred stared at him, taken aback. "What? But that's-"

"You said lovers," a guard said. "He hasn't had any of those before. He didn't even really love his husband."

"Oh." Alfred made a face. "Semantics." But it was sweet that he was the only one. "Okay, has he had a lot of people-he's-slept-with?"

That amused them greatly, too, and they nodded.

Oh well. Alfred wasn't really surprised.

"I can see why he'd like you, though," said a guard, suddenly looking shy instead of leering and amused.

"Um, thanks." Alfred blushed.

"And there's two of them," a noble said, and his friend nudged him.

"Ignore him. He has a thing for twins."

Alfred's blush intensified. "Oh yeah? That's, uh..." He wasn't quite sure what that was.

"Hey, c'mon." A noble gestured toward the serving girl. "It's past breakfast, let's drink. On me."

"Thanks." Alfred pushed his plate away and stood. "I really should get to work, though."

"Tonight, then! And you can tell us more about the Queen."

A guard nodded. "And you can buy the drinks."

Alfred laughed. "Sure! Drinks will be on me." The conversation had been embarrassing, but Alfred still left the pseudo-pub feeling good. He liked being... well, liked.

* * *

"Are you still in here?" Alfred crept into the throne room, peering around. Only a couple lamps lit the entire vast area, casting flickering shadows on the lone figure seated near them on the smaller throne. As if he hadn't heard the sound of someone walking in and speaking, Arthur continued with his business, breaking the wax seal and unrolling a letter. "It's after midnight. You never work this late."

Arthur finally lifted his eyes. "Oh, Alfred. What are you doing here?"

"Did you miss all that?" Alfred sighed, stepping closer, hurrying as quickly as he could through the deep shadows until he reached the safety of the lamplight. "It's after midnight."

"It is?" Arthur looked around in surprise. "Oops."

"Letters from some stuffy jerk can wait." Alfred reached over to grab the paper, but Arthur held it away.

"Stop that." He set his correspondence aside. "It's been a long day. People bitching about this and that... parents angry that their sons haven't returned from the Diamonds border..."

"Oh, soldiers?"

"No," Arthur muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm, "just kids that got lost." He winced, features softening. "Sorry, Al."

"Hey, it's okay." Alfred patted the Queen's shoulder. "Like you said. Long day. One time when the horses were being all uncooperative, and one bit me, and another kicked me, I was real grumpy. I yelled at Mattie for something stupid."

"Poor Mattie." A smile tugged at Arthur's lips. "Did he cry?"

"No. He yelled back."

"Well, I'm glad I stopped myself." Arthur tugged Alfred onto his lap. "I need to stop doing this, though. You're heavy."

"Sorry." Alfred rearranged them so that Arthur was seated on his lap instead. "How's that, Your Maj?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Better."

"Hey, you're the one who called me too thin once."

Arthur slid one of his hands into Alfred's shirt, trailing over the muscles of his chest and stomach, making him shiver. "Oh, I'm not complaining."

Alfred's smile grew. Would his dream of throne sex finally come true? But alas, Arthur retracted his hand, and snuggled against Alfred like a child. He squashed the disappointment, and put his arms around the suddenly young-seeming Queen.

It was easy to forget, most of the time, that the Queen _was_ young. Only a handful of years older than Alfred. And he had an entire kingdom resting on his shoulders. "Was your day that bad?"

"Long..." Arthur sighed. "I always liked having someone to do at the end of the day. I never realized how nice it would be to have someone just to hold..."

Alfred decided to not point out that he was the one holding Arthur. "Yeah, that's nice. Next time I have a tough day, I'll go to you instead of taking it out on Mattie."

"I'm sure he'd be thrilled to hear that."

Alfred grinned. He shifted Arthur more firmly into his arms and stood.

"What are you doing?" Arthur squirmed.

"It's past your bedtime," Alfred said. He walked, albeit slowly, back through the dark room. "You need more light in here at night."

"And how are you going to open the door?"

"Like this." Alfred kicked the door, until a guard on the other side took the hint and opened it for him. "Thanks!"

The guard winked at them, and Arthur went still. Alfred could see the blush reach his ears in the better-lit hallway.

It was a nice try, but Alfred was forced to give up when they approached the second flight of stairs, much larger than the first. "Okay, that's enough of that..." He set Arthur down, rubbing his lower back. "I could totally make it the whole way! If I wanted to. But you were looking uncomfortable."

"Mm hm. I thank you for your courtesy." Arthur strode up the stairs.

"You should stop wearing long coats," Alfred mused as he trailed after him. "Then I'd see your butt move when you walked."

With a noise of annoyance that didn't sound too authentic, Arthur walked faster.

"Hey, I'm just trying to take your mind off work!"

Arthur glanced over his shoulder with a little smile. "Well, I'm tired. If you want sex, you'll probably have to top. Don't expect much help."

"Always happy to oblige," Alfred said. "But if you're tired, you should just sleep. I'll hold you."

Arthur's expression softened. "I'd like that." He didn't even protest and insist that he'd be the one doing the holding.

Alfred was true to his word. They washed up and stripped their clothes off, then curled together in bed. Arthur was asleep almost instantly, snoring contentedly in Alfred's arms. Alfred held him close, smiling peacefully until he, too, drifted off.

* * *

Matthew pointed to the rose-shaped pin. "That one." He paid the vendor and accepted the wrapped pin, smiling.

"Is that for a special someone?" the vendor asked with a knowing smile.

Matthew nodded. "We'll be seeing each other tomorrow, I think. I can't wait." He left the jewelry booth behind, wondering what else he should get. Flowers? He gave Francis flowers last time, maybe something else. Or was the pin enough?

He was starting to sound like Alfred. Matthew knew what he was doing! He pocketed the package, satisfied that that would be enough.

Matthew jumped at the sudden feeling of a hand on his ass. He was just about to turn around and give the handsy individual a piece of his mind when arms wrapped around him and warm breath blew on his ear.

"Is there a mirror in your pants?" a low voice asked. "Because I can definitely see myself in them."

With a snort of laughter, Matthew spun around and flung himself at Francis, hugging him tight. "Pervert," he said fondly.

"But I'm your pervert." Francis kissed him sweetly on the lips before pulling back. "Don't squeeze too tight, you're going to damage it."

"You are _such_ a perv... oh." Matthew blushed when he saw the bag Francis was talking about. "Sorry."

"You think the worst of me." Francis handed the bag over, and Matthew eagerly looked inside.

"Oh my..." Matthew reached inside to rummage through the pastries. They glistened like jewels with their toppings of fruit, sugar, or honey, no two looking alike. He plucked one out and stuffed it in his mouth, honey dripping from his lips.

"My chef is trained in Diamonds treats," Francis said, watching Matthew eat with an amused twinkle in his eyes. "I'm glad they survived the trip."

Matthew attempted to say something, but gave up, waiting until he finished. Francis waited patiently. "Delicious. Thank you. Here, this is for you." He removed the small package from his pocket with his least sticky couple fingers and handed it to Francis. Francis, of course, was dutifully thrilled, and pinned it to his jacket.

"Save some of those for later," Francis suggested as they walked through the market, his arm around Matthew's shoulders.

"I know." Matthew finished his second one, and tied the bag up.

"Well?"

Matthew waited for the 'well' to get an explanation, but quickly gave up. "Well what?"

"Are you going to give us a chance?"

"Oh..." His blush returned. "Yes."

Francis gave him a squeeze. "You are sure? I don't want to hurt you."

"It _does_ hurt, I won't lie." Matthew sighed. "Saying goodbye is hard. Missing you is hard. But... saying hello is nice. Looking forward to seeing you and planning what we'll do is nice. Not perfect, but..."

"Good. Did you take my advice and find someone else to keep you company?"

"No," Matthew said, a little coolly. "Did you?"

"I did not." He saw Francis grin out of the corner of his eye. "Last time I visited you were ready to pounce on me right away. Shall we do that again? I will take you to my room and make love to you all night lo-"

"No."

Francis blinked. "No? Well, if that is what you-"

"Al called me vanilla a while back."

"Ah... well, that is..."

Matthew didn't give him time to finish, hurrying Francis around the side of a vendor's booth. They found themselves between the back of the booth and the wall of a building.

"This is pleasant..." Francis wrinkled his nose, eyeing the mossy wall with distaste. "What are you doing?" By way of answer, Matthew got to his knees in front of Francis, reaching for his pants. "You... now? Here?"

"We'll see who's vanilla," Matthew said to himself.

"O-oh..." Francis' breath caught. He caressed a hand over Matthew's hair. "Your brother should offend you more often."

* * *

"I thought you might be hungry." Yao set a dish of spiced chicken and a glass of water down on the study desk.

"You're such a mother hen," Arthur said, picking up the sticks Yao always offered instead of actual silverware. He cast one aside, and used one stick to spear a piece of chicken. He took a bite, making an approving noise as he chewed the spicy meat, and...

Arthur's eyes bugged. He fumbled for the glass of water as he choked, eyes tearing. "What are you trying to _do_ to me?" he gasped.

Yao did not look at all sympathetic, shaking his head with a sigh. "It wasn't that bad." He watched the Queen gulp down water. "If it's too spicy for you, milk would be better."

"You didn't bring me milk!"

"Dammit, where are they..." Alfred barged on in, hunting around. He barely seemed to notice the room's occupants, giving them only a distracted wave in greeting. Arthur and Yao simply watched in baffled amusement as Alfred rummaged around, peering behind bookcases and under chairs.

"Can I... help you?" Yao said.

"I know they're here somewhere... Aha!" He stood up from behind a chair, triumphantly holding... his favorite heart-patterned shorts. Arthur groaned, face growing hot. "Okay," Alfred said, "seeya!"

And he was gone, as quickly as he had come.

Arthur stared at the door long after he left, until Yao finally tapped him on the shoulder.

"You're still thinking about that?"

Arthur nodded. "I'm going to ask him about the position. In a few more months."

Yao tilted his head. "I still don't understand why you want to wait. He won't make a better guard in a few months than he would now."

"No, but..." Arthur shook his head. "Never mind."

"What is it?"

"You'll think it's silly."

"I already do, Your Majesty."

"Fine..." A smile tugged at Arthur's lips. "I'm waiting to tell him until his favorite mare gives birth. He'd be reluctant beforehand."

Yao smiled, too. "Are you sure he'll want to leave the stables at all?"

"I hope so. He'd make a fine guard."

"With a bit of training," Yao said. "But he picked up everything else we've taught him quickly enough."

"Yes."

"And you just want to see him in the uniform."

"I'm not denying that." Arthur finished off the water, then carried the empty glass over to another desk. He set it down atop a variety of other glasses.

"Your Majesty?" Yao watched curiously.

"Shh." He stood back, picking up a small ball. Stared at the glasses, took aim, and threw. "Dammit!" He retrieved the ball and returned to his spot, tossed it. This time, it smashed right into the center of the stack of glasses, shattering them. "There!" He smirked at the defeated glassware.

"Ah... I'll send for a maid..." Yao watched Arthur move back to the desk that contained his paperwork. "Your Majesty?"

"Hm?" Arthur picked up a letter from some noble who felt he was paying too much taxes.

"Would you like to be... ah... trained?" Yao glanced at the broken glass. "In anything? We could all stand to have more strength and skills, right?" He hesitated. "I'll give you a fair price."

"Yao!"

"I'm just kidding," Yao said quickly.

Arthur had a sneaking suspicion that Yao really meant _The price actually won't be that fair._ "If you insist, I suppose some physical training would be an interesting diversion." Yao bowed and left the room, and Arthur tossed the letter into the fireplace, satisfied with that job taken care of.


	16. Chapter 16

Alfred knocked on the door instead of just walking on in. He didn't normally return to their room in the middle of the day – but he really needed a change of clothes thanks to the combination of mud and a frisky horse – and he wasn't sure if Matthew was... occupied. Oh sure, he hadn't brought Francis to the palace yet, as far as Alfred knew. But one could never be too careful.

His knock went unanswered, so Alfred headed in. "Nobody home, you must be off visiting..." He paused mid-sentence, going cold at the sight within. They'd been robbed! Some asshole had ransacked their room. The blankets were askew, a chair overturned, papers scattered across the floor...

Alfred frowned, looking around and wondering what had been taken. What were they looking for? He figured the assumption must have been that the Queen's lover would be showered in jewels. He stepped over to the dresser, but its contents were undisturbed. His few trinkets remained in their spots. He quickly changed his muddy clothes, then stepped back, scratching his head. "What did they want?"

A glint of light on the floor caught his eye, and Alfred squatted down, eager to locate a clue. His heart nearly stopped as he picked up the discarded pair of glasses. "Mattie..." Alfred looked up, panic clawing at him. "Oh no." He scrambled to his feet, running from the room as fast as he possibly could, barely able to breathe. In his haste, he had dropped the glasses. "Matt!" He skidded to a halt in the hallway, looking around wildly. Which way had the kidnappers gone? "MATT!"

"Alfred?"

That was him! Alfred was moving before he had time to think. Thank the gods they hadn't gotten far! Alfred rounded a corner and froze, staring in horror. "Matt...?"

He hung in his captors' grasp, bruised and scratched, blood trickling from his nose. And his captors were not random thugs – they were guards. Mattie was being arrested, not kidnapped!

"Wh..." Alfred licked his lips. "What's going on?"

"Al..." Matthew struggled weakly. "I didn't do anything, I swear!"

The very fact that he assumed Alfred would immediately believe him guilty made Alfred wince. "I know."

"I'm sorry, Alfred," one of the guards said. Strangely enough, he did look sympathetic.

"What has he _done_?"

"Treason, Alfred."

Matthew's face went completely white. Alfred felt like he had been punched. Treason... that meant that they were not, in fact, arresting Matthew. They were dragging him to the noose. "No..." Alfred shook his head. "That isn't possible."

"I'm afraid so. He has been seen by various witnesses having a close relationship with the King of Diamonds."

The brothers exchanged a horrified look. Of course... As much as Alfred wished he could continue to deny their accusations, everything suddenly made sense. Judging by Matthew's look of awful realization, he felt the same way.

"I'm sorry, Alfred," the guard said again, and they continued to drag Matthew's stiff form away.

"No!" Alfred hurried closer. "Don't you dare!"

The guards sighed. "Alfred..."

"I said no! Don't even think about killing him, you better not even touch him again!" Alfred was practically seeing red, shaking with terror and rage. The guards were looking a lot less sympathetic (one even looked a little scared), but he didn't care. "I mean it. I'm going to talk to the Queen about this."

"I don't-"

"Listen to me." He took a deep breath. "Have I ever abused my position? Have I once used being the Queen's lover to my advantage in the palace? No. But now I'm telling you, if you do a _thing_ to hurt him, you will regret it." He glared at one of the guards. "Get the Jack."

The guard looked at the others, wide-eyed and seeming lost. They eventually nodded at him, and he hurried away.

"Al..." Matthew said weakly.

"It's okay, Matt."

"Al, I swear I didn't know!"

"I know." Alfred gazed at him sadly. It was the guards Matthew needed to convince, yet it was Alfred he really wanted to.

"How could he... do this...?"

Alfred had no idea.

They waited, the guards looking awkward as they tried to avoid meeting Alfred's gaze. Now that Matthew's death was less imminent (oh gods, this reminded him of the first time he met the Queen, only a thousand times more terrifying!), Alfred was relaxing slightly, though his pulse continued to thunder in his ears. But as time dragged on, the adrenaline faded and he began to feel numb, detached, like it was all a dream. It had to be. Matthew couldn't be on the brink of execution, that was absurd.

At last the guard returned, Yao in tow, gaping at them in shock. "Alfred, Matthew." He looked back and forth between them. "Is what he says true?"

"I didn't know," Matthew repeated numbly.

"Yao, can you watch him?" Alfred said.

Yao blinked at him. "What?"

"I'm going to talk to the Queen. I don't trust anyone else to keep an eye on Matthew." He paused, knowing that wasn't enough. "You can lock him up if you want."

"Alfred," Matthew gasped.

"Yes, that's fine," Yao said with a nod. "He will remain in the dungeon until the Queen makes a decision. I will personally guard him. The Queen is in his study."

"Thank you, Yao." Relaxing slightly, Alfred hurried over to Matthew, who was looking faint.

"Arthur won't let anything happen to you," Alfred said. "Surely he'll understand."

Matthew just stared at him. Wide terrified eyes, bereft of glasses... he looked like a scared child. Alfred's stomach did an unpleasant flip.

"I'll be right back, okay?" He kissed Matthew's cheek, and ran, tearing through the palace, bumping into the occasional servant but not pausing for an apology. He did not even slow down until he reached his destination.

Arthur was in his study, going over some documents at his desk. He jerked back in surprise when Alfred stormed into the room, looking like he came close to tipping back in his chair. "Alfred!"

"Arthur..." He gulped in a breath. "You have to help."

Arthur sprang from his chair, hurrying around the desk. "What happened?"

"Mattie... Mattie's been arrested..." It all started to crash down on him at once, and he began to cry, mentally cursing himself.

Arthur gasped, staring at him in shock. "What are you saying?" He stepped closer, pulling Alfred into his arms. "What do they say he's done? He's the most moral person I know!"

"They say... I guess his boyfriend's the King of Diamonds..."

Arthur jerked away from Alfred as if he had been burned. "What?"

"We didn't know!" Alfred said, tears still spilling from his eyes. "Don't let them kill Mattie; they were going to kill him! He didn't know, it was a mistake! Guards shouldn't be able to just execute people like that..."

"Al..." Arthur took a deep breath. He closed his eyes for a moment, but was soon staring intently at Alfred "You believe it, then? That is a very serious accusation."

"I do." Alfred wrapped his arms around himself. "It makes sense. I should have known he wasn't just any Francis."

Arthur sighed heavily, dropping onto the small couch by the bookshelves. "Come here, Alfred. Tell me everything." He waited, expression hardening at Alfred's hesitation. "Everything, Alfred."

"But Mattie's in the dungeon and-"

"He'll live. Come here, I want everything you know about... this."

Clinging to the phrase _He'll live_ , Alfred dropped down beside Arthur, and started with the first time he heard about the handsome, flirty man Matthew met on his first trip outside the palace.

* * *

Arthur pushed open the door to the dungeon, pausing as soon as he stepped inside to let his eyes adjust to the dim light. He located Yao and nodded to him. The Jack handed over a set of keys, bowed, and left Arthur alone in the dungeon.

Almost alone. He approached the occupied cell and knelt down, mildly surprised to not hear any crying from within. Only the occasional deep, shuddering breath.

"Matthew?"

The figure within the cell looked up, and slowly shuffled closer to the door, chains rattling. "Y-your Majesty..."

Arthur gazed sadly at him. "What have you done?"

"I didn't know," Matthew whispered. "I had no idea that bastard was..." He shivered. "The King."

"But you knew he was from Diamonds," Arthur said.

"Originally! He said he moved here several years ago."

"I know." Arthur settled down on the cold stone floor. "Alfred told me everything. And Francis also told you the reason he could never stay here long was he had to return to his family's estate, correct?"

"Yes..."

"His family estate, despite the fact that he is the first and only member of his family to move here."

Matthew cringed. "I wasn't thinking."

"Clearly. The fact that you have kept his kingdom of origin a secret is proof enough you knew it was wrong."

"I didn't think it was wrong!" A pause. "Not really. I was afraid he would be discriminated against."

Arthur sighed. "Our kingdoms don't exactly have a lot of immigration between them. You should have known better!"

"I kn-know..."

"And he came up with every excuse in the book to avoid any circumstance that would bring him near the palace or myself, correct?"

Matthew laughed bitterly, and Arthur was taken aback by the sudden change. "Oh yes. Including faking illness on my birthday."

For some reason, that phrasing struck Arthur. It was rare for either of them to use the singular when they referred to events like that, it was always _our_ birthday. "Yes, I remember that illness."

"He didn't seem to have a high opinion of you..."

"I bet not. And he kept his face hidden outside, correct?"

"I should have known."

"You should have." Arthur sighed again. "What am I going to do with you?"

Matthew shifted gears again, bitterness fading from his voice and leaving behind a sad whisper. "Don't kill me..."

Arthur winced. "I can make a pretty good case for you being innocent of intentional treason. I doubt you will be executed. Time behind bars, on the other hand..."

Matthew scooted closer to the door, gripping the bars he was being threatened with. "How long?"

"A long time."

"Oh..."

Arthur cleared his throat. He had been thinking about this while Alfred was talking. "Unless..."

"What?" Matthew said cautiously.

"I'll have to spread the word, make sure people – the guards especially – know exactly what's going on. For one thing, I don't want anybody to still think you are guilty, and try to take the law into their own hands. But also, when you see Francis, I don't want anyone disturbing you and spoiling everything. You're going to act as if nothing happened."

Matthew stared at him, clearly baffled.

"Al said Francis is still here for a few more days. The timing couldn't be better. You see, you are going to tell him, in no uncertain terms, that you are tired of this always waiting for him and are going to return with him, and live with him. Get him to confess who he is."

"I don't want to be with him," Matthew said. "And I can't travel."

"Sure you can."

"I'd need Tino."

"Then you can have him!" Arthur rubbed his chin. "Assuming Francis doesn't mind. If he balks at all, and doesn't trust taking anyone else along, convince him to send for one of his own physicians. I think he will do it."

"I don't want to," Matthew repeated firmly. "Not with him."

"So pretend," Arthur said. "We're returning the favor. You will be my spy."

A heavy silence fell between them. Matthew gaped at him in shock. Arthur said nothing, letting it sink in.

"What will that entail?" Matthew finally asked, voice barely audible.

"You will write letters to your brother fairly often," Arthur said. "That would be expected. They would be more suspicious if you _didn't_ , I'm sure."

"I will include coded messages in what I write to him?"

Arthur shook his head. "Write whatever you want to Al. Every few letters or so, you will first write whatever you think I should know with an invisible ink we will provide for you. They can try all they want if they suspect something, they won't be able to find the right combination of chemicals to bring the ink out."

Matthew thought about that for a moment. "Couldn't they find the bottles of ink?"

Arthur nodded slowly. "They will be disguised, but that could happen, yes. Spying is not a risk-free endeavor."

"I know." Matthew leaned against the bars, sighing. "And I have to pretend to still like that son of a bitch..."

Arthur gazed at him for a long time, before finally groaning. "I can't believe I'm going to do this..." Matthew curiously lifted his eyes, and Arthur sighed. "It pains me to say something nice about a man I rather wish would fall crotch-first into a pit of sharpened stakes, but... I honestly don't think Francis was lying to you, or using you, or anything of the sort."

"How can you _say_ that?"

"Because he is an idiotic hopeless romantic. He doesn't have it in him to lie about something like that, or pretend to love. Certainly not for so long."

Matthew narrowed his eyes.

"I'm serious. He would not do that." Arthur smiled slightly. "And even if he could... what would be the point? No offense, Matthew, but you don't really have anything to offer a spy. You aren't privy to knowledge nobody else in the kingdom could get, you _could_ have gained him access to the palace but he refused... And it just sounds like the only reason he kept coming back was to see you. At great personal risk to himself and his kingdom."

"And to me," Matthew growled.

"Yes, and to you. I never said he was particularly smart."

"You think his love is genuine?" Matthew stared at Arthur, lavender eyes penetrating.

Arthur kept his eyes locked with the other man's. "I do."

It was another long minute before Matthew finally broke the gaze, retreating to a corner and sagging against the wall. "I guess you're right. Of all the men in all the kingdom for a spy to seduce, I'd be the last choice." He covered his face with his hands. "What was he _doing_ here? Why does the King come himself?"

"I don't know. I'd appreciate it if you found that out." Arthur held the key up. "You still have a choice. Do you want to stay in here, or go to Diamonds?"

Matthew lowered his hands and watched the key dangle. "I'll go."

"Okay." Arthur let out a slow breath, not sure if he should feel pleased, or hate himself. He jammed the key into the lock and turned it with a loud _click_ , and the door swung open. He stepped into the cell and knelt down, feeling for the lock to the chains. Nothing was said as he freed Matthew. Even after the shackles fell away, Matthew remained in his spot, eyes unfocused. "Mattie?"

Matthew swallowed thickly. "We've never... been apart."

"I know." He was trying not to think about that. "But if you manage to forgive the bastard, you'll be with him, at least." He was trying not to think about that, too. _Him_ , putting his hands all over innocent Matthew!

"I guess... I'll go let him know." Matthew finally stood, leaning against the wall.

Arthur nodded, shivering. "I think... I think I'll see what he thinks about being a guard now. I was going to wait a couple months to bring it up, but it might keep him occupied, you know?"

"A guard, huh? I can see him doing that." Matthew sighed. "I'll stop by later to hammer out the details."

"Tomorrow afternoon in the throne room."

"All right." Matthew left the cell behind, and approached the door to exit the dungeon. He hesitated, back still facing Arthur. "What did you do to each other?"

"What do you mean?" Arthur said.

"You and Francis. Why do you hate him so much? What did he do?"

"Oh..." Arthur coughed. "Um, nothing. He's the King of Diamonds."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Shaking his head, Matthew opened the door to leave.

"Matthew."

He stopped, but didn't respond.

"I was wrong." Arthur swallowed. "You aren't worthless to Spades' enemies. You used to be, but now it's known that your brother is my lover. If he had wanted to, Francis easily could have... done something to Alfred, to get to me, or just to hurt me. Keep that in mind, at least, if you think I'm being unfair. Or the next time you blindly trust someone."

Matthew shivered, but left the dungeon without another word.

Arthur slowly followed, though he headed for his own room. He could probably find some work to do, but he wasn't in the mood, so he found a book he'd been meaning to read and flopped on the bed. After about a half hour had gone by and he had no idea what was going on, Arthur gave up and set the book on the nightstand, settling back among the pillows and closing his eyes.

After a couple hours of fitful dozing, Arthur rolled out of bed. Pausing briefly in front of a mirror to straighten out his rumpled clothes, he returned to the halls. He wasn't sure why he was heading for their room – maybe just making sure Matthew was okay? Whatever the reason, Arthur walked the familiar route from his room to the twins'.

He just so happened to approach the room just as Alfred was leaving. His heart sped up, and he waved slightly.

Alfred's expression hardened when he locked eyes with Arthur, eyes that grew almost frighteningly icy. Without a word, he disappeared back into the room and slammed the door.


	17. Chapter 17

"It will be all right." Tino pulled Matthew into his arms.

"I'm leaving everything behind," Matthew mumbled into Tino's shoulder. He pulled back, smiling weakly. "Except you, right?"

Tino averted his eyes. "I don't know, Matthew. Somehow I doubt Francis will agree to that. He's never met me, he won't want to reveal his 'secret' to me."

Matthew felt a stab of alarm. He couldn't go without Tino! "But you have to! I seriously doubt he'll send for a trusted physician from Diamonds, wait for the message to get to him, wait for him to travel here and meet us..."

"You'll be all right." With a fond look, Tino patted Matthew's hair. "As long as you take enough medicine, you'll be able to make the trip on your own."

"You think so?" Matthew hadn't even considered that a possibility. His stomach tightened at the thought that he could have traveled any time. Could have gone off with Francis, learned who he was in a much more pleasant way, not been in this huge mess...

"I do."

He was only slightly reassured. "But what if something happens?"

"Then find a doctor! Remember when you were ill? You could go days without medicine before you got really bad, right? You'll never be that far from a town and a doctor, it's not like you're taking some back trail through mountains." He paused. "But I don't think something will happen."

"And when I get there?"

Tino's smile was patient. "You'll find a doctor there. The illness wasn't confined to this kingdom, it spread to Clubs and Diamonds as well. They'll know what they're doing." He sighed. "I'll miss you quite a bit."

"Don't," Matthew mumbled, sniffing. "Don't get me going again..."

"Sorry." Tino dug in his bag for the ingredients to presumably make plenty of batches of medicine. "I'll write it all down, the important information regarding your treatment and medication." He hummed as he worked. "And let me know if anybody there gives you trouble. I'll track them down and rip their heads off."

* * *

Arthur pulled his watch out and stared at it for the millionth time. According to it, three minutes had passed since the last time he had checked. "Almost eleven... Where _is_ he?" He stuffed the watch back in his coat and folded his arms, sinking back in the throne.

"You told him afternoon, Your Majesty," Yao said.

"Not him." Arthur turned his attention to the light caught in the stained glass window. "I sent a message to Alfred to see me here this morning. I'll be angry if he ignores it..." His frown deepened. "Like he's been ignoring me since yesterday."

Yao just nodded and looked away, returning to whatever it was he was writing, while Arthur resumed waiting. Just thinking about the meetings he was putting off...!

Alfred's entrance was announced almost twenty minutes later. He came striding into the throne room, expression dark, fancy coat swirling behind him like a cape. Arthur's breath caught. What was Alfred doing dressing so impressively? Arthur had no idea what he thought he was trying to prove. Did he think he could intimidate the Queen into changing his mind?

"Your Majesty," Alfred said with a little bow. The cool formality tried to tug at Arthur's heart, but he refused to let it.

"Alfred, knock it off," Arthur muttered. Alfred lifted his eyes, glaring. "I mean it." He slid off the throne, stalking closer. Alfred took an involuntary step back, looking less sure of himself as the Queen approached. Alfred wasn't saying anything, so Arthur got right to the point. No point in exchanging false pleasantries. "All right, listen. I know you have your brother on a pedestal and think he can do no wrong-" Arthur held up a hand when Alfred opened his mouth to protest. "You know it's true. But what he has done is _foolish_."

Alfred winced. "He didn't know..."

"So I've been told repeatedly." Arthur sighed. "What all did he tell you about this?"

Alfred's expression darkened again. "About his punishment. How you're sending him off to spy in an enemy kingdom, where he could be killed." He looked away. "You bribing me with a position as a guard."

"Oh, so he did tell you about that," Arthur said with a snort. "Hardly a bribe, since I've been planning that for a while."

"It's true," Yao chimed in, "he has."

"Do you mind?" Arthur frowned at Yao, who quickly backed away. He turned back to his pissed off lover. "So he didn't tell you how he agreed with me, that he was a fool?" Alfred stiffened. "He was seeing a man he knew was from an enemy kingdom, didn't tell anyone, didn't question. Blindly trusted him, in spite of all the evidence that he wasn't who he seemed. Francis easily could have been a truly dangerous man, instead of the idiot King. By continuing that relationship in secret, Matthew was putting _all_ of us in danger. You, me, the whole kingdom. And himself."

Alfred's face fell as he listened, his whole body sagging slightly like he was suddenly exhausted. The anger seemed to have drained out of him. "I know..."

"Do you?"

Alfred ran his hands over his face. "Yeah..."

"Do you understand that what he did was wrong, and I had to punish him?" Arthur felt like a lecturing parent. "And not only that, but he would likely be in _danger_ if I just let him go unpunished? And my authority would come into question?"

Alfred nodded. "You could have just locked him up..."

"I gave him the option. He chose Diamonds rather quickly." His annoyance was starting to shift back to Matthew. He could have done a better job explaining, rather than making Arthur out to be the bad guy. But at least this was turning out to be easier than he had anticipated.

"Oh..."

Arthur stepped closer again, and was pleased that Alfred didn't back away. "Please, love. Please understand."

Alfred's expression softened. "I understand. I just..."

"You'll miss him and worry about him," Arthur said, and Alfred nodded. "I know. But he should be okay over there, Francis won't hurt him, even if he's caught."

"Unless his guards get to him first," Alfred muttered. "Seriously, Arthur, you shouldn't allow that. You should have the final say, especially when it comes to execution! If I hadn't gotten all muddy at work, Mattie would be..."

"I'll look into it." Arthur suppressed a shudder. "You're right, it shouldn't be like that."

"Okay." Alfred leaned into Arthur, and Arthur sagged in relief. He had been half-afraid he would end up losing Alfred over this, too. He supposed he should have known better; Alfred _could_ be reasoned with.

Arthur stepped away, tilting Alfred's chin until their eyes met. "Are you sure you understand, Alfred, that I need to punish those who do something wrong?"

"I understand," Alfred said, finally smiling, even if it lacked its usual sunny qualities. "You must uphold the law, right? I'm sorry I took it out on you."

"You're sure? You won't get mad at me again?"

"I'm sure!"

"I'm glad to hear that." Arthur patted Alfred's shoulder. "Because you also knew Francis was from Diamonds, and kept it to yourself."

Alfred's smile promptly fell. "Oh..."

"Some time in the dungeon, I think. You understand."

Alfred gave him a pleading look. "But..."

"Not until after Matthew leaves, though."

"Oh." Alfred heaved a sigh. "For how long?"

"Hm." Arthur tapped his chin. "Were you planning on accepting the position as a guard?"

"Huh? Well, yeah."

"Then Yao's in charge of you. I'll leave that up to him." Arthur nodded to the Jack.

"Maybe just a few days," Yao mused. "I need to get you trained!"

"Okay..." Alfred turned away, ready to leave.

"Are we okay?" Arthur had to ask.

"Huh?" Alfred glanced back over his shoulder. "Us? Yeah, of course. The only person I like less because of all this is Francis."

That might change, after a month or two of missing his brother, but for now Arthur was glad. "Well, good. I'm always happy to spread the dislike of Diamonds."

Alfred's lips quirked. He bowed slightly, and left the throne room.

Arthur flopped back onto his throne, staring up at the ceiling. "That did not go as badly as I anticipated." Fucking Francis had almost ruined Arthur's relationship without even trying! "I'm hungry."

"I'll bring you something to eat," Yao said, and hurried off without waiting for an answer.

"No spices!" Arthur called after him. After he was left alone, Arthur found himself wondering if he should have asked Alfred what was up with the outfit.

Matthew arrived shortly after noon, his entrance nowhere near as grand as his brother's as he slipped inside. His expression seemed to be a combination of weary resignation, and... interest? He hesitated before attempting an awkward bow.

"It's nice to see one of you walk in here without glaring me to death," Arthur said.

Matthew winced. "How did that go?"

"Surprisingly well, actually." Arthur smiled, though it quickly fell. "No thanks to you."

Matthew's eyes widened. "What?"

"You could have gone into a bit more detail, not made me sound like a monster!"

"Ah..." Matthew shrugged slightly. "I tried. He barely listened to a word once he knew my punishment, he was really upset."

"I see." Arthur let out a breath. "Okay, let's get on with this. Here." He pulled a small blue bottle out of his pocket.

Matthew eyed the bottle, puzzled. "What about it? That's what I keep my medicines in."

"I know," Arthur said with a smile. He handed the bottle over "And you'll be keeping your ink in them, too. Try not to drink the wrong one."

Matthew smiled, too, and Arthur felt a jab in his heart. This poor boy, sick and bedridden for so long, now being uprooted from his life and sent on his own to an enemy kingdom. And he was being quite reasonable about it now that he had gotten used to the idea.

But Matthew was likely as much of a mushy romantic as Francis. Arthur had no doubt he would forgive his idiot lover, and would be quite happy in Diamonds. He might not even want to return to Spades once his allotted spying time was finished.

"So when had you planned on seeing him again?" Arthur asked.

Matthew rolled the bottle around in his hands. "This evening."

"All right. Do you know what to say?"

"I think so." He chewed on his lower lip. "He'll want to have sex..."

Arthur mentally rolled his eyes. Oh no, Matthew would have to sleep with someone he claimed was an amazing lover? How _would_ he survive? "So take your anger out on him during sex. He'd probably like that."

Matthew blinked. "I, uh, I suppose I could do that..." he mumbled.

"Besides, he'll know you're angry at him. Try not to get too pissed so you end up breaking up, but anger would be natural when he tells you who he is." Maybe Matthew would punch him in the nose.

"I guess so. I won't have to pretend everything's perfect, at least." Matthew breathed a sigh. "All right. What now?"

Arthur pulled out a sheet of paper. "Now we'll go over things I'd especially like you to keep an eye out for."

Matthew nodded and moved to his side, eyeing the list curiously as Arthur started going over it, assigning him his mission.

* * *

Alfred looked up when the door opened, hurriedly tossing Matthew's stuffed animal onto the other bed. He sighed in relief that his brother did not look more upset, at least. "Everything go okay?"

Matthew nodded, dropping onto his bed. "Fine. And you? Arthur said you did better than he thought."

"Yeah, I forgave him..." Alfred made a face. "And he's locking me up for a few days."

Matthew blinked. "What?"

"Locking me up. In the dungeon. Because I knew about Francis, too."

"Ohh..." And Matthew actually _giggled_.

"Thanks for the support," Alfred muttered. "It won't be until after you leave, at least. Then once I'm out, I'm going to start on my training for being a guard. They'll show me how to use weapons properly!"

"That's great, Al," Matthew said with a small smile.

"That's what he said, anyway," Alfred said quickly. "I told Arthur I'd take the position, but I'll tell him I can't."

"What?" Matthew stared at him in surprise. "Why?"

"Because I'm going with you."

" _What?_ " Now Matthew looked at him like he had lost his mind.

Alfred nodded. "I'm going with you. Why not? It's not like I _have_ to stay here. I mean, except for the days they have me locked up... But once they let me out, I'll meet up with you in Diamonds."

"Al..." Matthew shifted over to Alfred's bed, putting an arm around him. "Idiot. Like I'd let you do that."

Alfred hunched his shoulders, frowning. "Why not? You don't want to be apart, do you?"

"Of course not. But it's just temporary, I'll be back. No reason for you to give up your life here."

Alfred said nothing for a long moment, picturing life in Spades without his twin. What would he do? He couldn't imagine Mattie not being there... "What if you don't come back?" Alfred swallowed. "What if you're caught, and executed?"

Matthew winced. "Well... at least the last time we saw each other would be when we said goodbye. If you come with me and I die, it could be right after a fight, or something else stupid."

"That's the worst comforting ever!" Alfred scowled. "And what if you forgive Francis, and love him as much as ever, and don't want to come back to Spades?"

"Then I'll let you know when that situation comes up, and you can decide what to do then." Matthew gave him a sideways glance. "If that _did_ happen, though, and we couldn't stand being apart, I'd come back. This is my fault; if one of us has to leave a boyfriend behind, it shouldn't be you."

"I don't want you to go at all," Alfred mumbled, rubbing at his stinging eyes. Matthew wordlessly embraced him. They clung to each other in mutual misery, until his lack of sleep the previous night caught up with Alfred and he drifted off. It was fitful and dreamless, and when he awoke he found himself alone.

* * *

Matthew approached the inn, just as he had a thousand times before, heart hammering against his ribs. This would all hinge on how good of an actor he could be, on if he could convincingly act as if nothing had happened. That only had to last until Francis "confessed", at least, then Matthew could let some of his actual upset show through.

 _If_ Francis confessed. That itself would hinge on just how much he really loved Matthew. This scheme working at all would prove that his feelings were genuine, wouldn't it?

One of the girls that helped her parents run the inn waved to Matthew as he passed by the front desk. He absently returned the wave, wondering just what she would do if she knew who her frequent guest really was.

What _would_ happen to Francis if he were caught? Obviously people had seen him, if they had spotted Matthew with him, but... Could he be arrested? Probably not. Likely he would just be shipped home, while only his hapless lovers were dragged off to die. Matthew's expression darkened, but he quickly shook himself and plastered on a smile. It would not do at all to get himself worked up beforehand, he had to seem happy!

He stared at the familiar door for a long time, running over and over in his mind what he planned on saying, and how he planned on saying it. He desperately hoped he didn't do something stupid when Francis opened the door, like burst into tears or hit him. Matthew took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and knocked on the door.

He didn't even know what it was he was feeling when Francis answered the door with a warm smile. It could have been love, it could have been hate, or some combination of both. He stared at him for a second, pulse pounding in his ears. There stood Francis, casually smiling at Matthew, perpetuating a lie and knowingly putting Matthew in danger... _Knock it off, you idiot! Be happy to see him. Rage later._ "Francis!" Matthew hugged him.

"You are late, my little cupcake," Francis said with a delighted laugh.

The laugh twisted his heart, though again he wasn't sure if it was good or bad. "Not by much."

"I have a lovely evening planned." Francis kissed him, but drew back with a frown. "Is everything okay?"

 _I can't even lie when I kiss_ , Matthew thought, feeling a bit panicked. But he was coming here to ask to visit Diamonds with Francis. Why shouldn't he feel nervous? He stepped back, letting that nervousness show. "No. I mean yes. Everything's fine. But I have to tell you something. Ask you something."

Francis led Matthew inside, shutting the door behind them. "Have a seat. Wine?"

"No, thank you." Matthew dropped onto one of the plush chairs, clearing his throat.

"Do I need to be worried?" Francis said as he sat in the chair beside him, looking a little nervous, himself.

"No!" Matthew shook his head. "You see... Look, I was talking with Tino. You know how I wouldn't ask him to travel with me? But he says I'd be fine traveling alone, if it's only to... to another end of Spades." Oh gods, he had almost slipped up right there. He was going to make a terrible spy. He had to concentrate on what he was doing, stop feeling flustered because of his raging emotions.

Francis' eyes widened. "Are you saying...?"

"Yes. When you return home in a couple days, I'll go with you." Matthew smiled, reaching over to take Francis' hands. "I'll visit you this time. Assuming you have good doctors there? And I don't have any obligations here, I can stay as long as I want."

Francis gaped at him in shock. "You... want to...?"

Matthew nodded. "Isn't that great?"

"I..."

He let his smile fall a little. "What's wrong?"

"Er..."

"You don't want me to visit?"

Francis wildly shook his head, waving his hands. "Of course not! I mean, of course I want you to visit. It's just..."

"Just what?" Matthew hoped his expression was showing growing disappointment. Francis was looking more distraught, tugging at Matthew's heart. "Francis..."

"Oh, Mathieu..." Francis squeezed himself into Matthew's chair and hugged him tight. "I'm so sorry I've been lying to you all this time."

Matthew stiffened, eyes widening. _He's really going to tell._ "Wh-what?"

"I'm... I don't live here, in this kingdom. I never have, I still live in Diamonds."

"Ohh..." Matthew waited for more, but Francis just continued to hold him. The next move seemed to be up to him. "Francis, I'm not a Spades native, I don't share their hatred. If I did, I wouldn't have been with you to begin with. I don't mind going there. And I shouldn't think anyone in Diamonds would have a problem with me, would they? You're on good terms with Hearts, they don't have to know where I live now."

Francis relaxed slightly. "You would not mind visiting Diamonds?"

"Of course not!"

"Okay." A long, heavy pause. "Well there's more."

Matthew swallowed. "What is it?" When he didn't say anything, Matthew gave him a squeeze. "You can tell me, Francis."

"I know." Francis laughed nervously. "I'm actually the King."

Matthew jerked away from him, stumbling out of the chair. Now would be the hardest part, as he tried to channel what his reaction would be if he really were learning this for the first time – from Francis himself, rather than from a guard intent on killing him. "What...?" Was he overdoing it? Should he have been more doubtful than shocked, at first? What _would_ he have done?

Francis' expression grew sad. "Yes, it's true. I hope you can understand why I could not tell you."

"Wha... you..." Matthew stared at him in feigned shock. "How could...?" He shook himself. "The _King_? What are you _doing_ here? What are you doing with _me_?"

"Stop." Francis reached for Matthew's hands, but Matthew jerked them away. "Mathieu, please! I am here to see you, I am not doing anything with you that you don't know about! I... when we met, I was just visiting. Seeing what was going on here, nothing terrible. And I met you and fell in love, and you are the reason I kept returning."

"How am I supposed to believe that?" Matthew snapped, letting his real feelings bleed through.

"I swear to you." Francis' expression grew serious. "That is the truth. I love you."

"But... you..." Matthew averted his gaze. "You shouldn't be here! If they saw you..." He widened his eyes. "If they saw _us_. Francis, that's... they would call that treason. You'd be okay, they couldn't harm a King, but I'd be killed!" His hands had started shaking a little. This was what he wanted to know above all else. He honestly didn't care _why_ Francis had really been in Spades – though Arthur did, and so Matthew would try and find out if it had been more than just checking the place out – or anything else of that nature. He just wanted to know how Francis could have done that to him.

Francis looked stricken. "Mathieu..."

"Surely you knew you were putting me in danger," Matthew pressed.

"I was not thinking about that," Francis said hoarsely. He tugged Matthew into his arms before he could think to step away. "I'm so sorry."

To his surprise, Matthew found himself leaning into the embrace. "How could you...?"

"I don't know. I guess I was too enchanted by you to think anything could happen? I wasn't even thinking that you would be in danger if we were caught. I don't know, but I'm glad nothing happened!" He waited, looking eager for an answer, but Matthew had none. Francis gulped. "I have been visiting periodically since soon after I became King, keeping tabs on the enemy. The regular people here don't recognize me, though I still take precautions, and most of them don't even recognize a Diamonds accent. I've grown careless, taking for granted that I won't be caught. I forget sometimes that I would be in serious trouble if I were caught, let alone somebody with me. Will you forgive my arrogance and ignorance?"

Pretty words. Matthew tried to tell himself that he was not at all melting at them. He looked into Francis' eyes, and almost flinched at the lack of hope in them. Francis assumed they were breaking up. The fact that that bothered Matthew came as another surprise. "Just..."

"Yes?"

"Just..." Matthew let out a long breath. "Promise me you won't lie again."

Francis stared at him, the slightest flicker of hope returning to his eyes. "Of course not. I'll tell you anything you want to know. Just ask."

Matthew finally pulled away, crossing the room to look out the window. Just yesterday he had been cursing Francis and wishing he never had to see him again. Now he was losing himself and forgiving him already. He had fallen madly in love with Francis, and it was hard to convince himself that hadn't changed in light of how truly regretful he seemed over everything Matthew was pissed at him for.  
"What's it like, being the King?"

Francis chuckled. "It's nice, I suppose. Busy, stressful, but good benefits."

Matthew smiled to himself, but it soon fell and he leaned his forehead against the cool glass. He wasn't supposed to still be in love with Francis, he reminded himself, because they could not be together. He couldn't move to Diamonds permanently... Their relationship was doomed to be forever one visiting the other. There was no promise of "someday" like he had always assumed.

Matthew had to laugh at himself. How quickly he had gone from proclaiming his hatred of Francis to wishing they could be together. He really was a hopeless fool. He wondered what Alfred would say.

The memory of Arthur's parting words to Matthew the previous night in the dungeon came back to him. He frowned, turning to face Francis. "So... you, um. Did you ever... think about doing anything to Alfred?"

Francis blanched at the question, and Matthew gasped. Now he had done it. That was it, there was no way he could return to Diamonds with Francis and even pretend to want to be with him. Not if he had been contemplating that! "No..." Matthew whispered.

Francis grimaced. "Mathieu, do not judge me too harshly. I am only human, and he looks just like you..."

Matthew blinked. "O-oh..." He felt himself flush. "That's not what I mean, um, I... Really? You thought of him like that?" Matthew shook his head. "Never mind. What I meant was... Well, you hate Queen Arthur, and you knew Alfred was his weakness..." He shrugged helplessly.

Francis started looking a little green. "How could you even think that!" Matthew attempted to stutter a response, and Francis groaned. "Of course not, I could never do something like that. Even if Arthur were a truly despicable monster, rather than an enemy by geography. I would not involve an innocent man, nor would I use even my most hated enemy's love against him."

"I know, I know." Matthew frowned slightly. "It's a valid question, though. Just answer honestly, you don't have to get all upset."

"I'll try."

Matthew scrubbed his hands down his face. "I can't believe we both ended up with royalty... How did that happen?"

"Are you asking?"

Matthew bit back an impolite response. But something else occurred to him, and his eyes widened. "Francis..."

Francis winced in anticipation. "Yes?"

Matthew took a deep breath. "Arthur is the only unmarried royal in the four kingdoms."

"That's right."

Matthew bristled at the casual affirmation. "You're _married_!"

Francis placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I thought you understood, after being around nobility for so long. Royals hardly ever marry for love, it's generally arranged for us. Affairs are allowed, common, and expected. Sometimes in the past, lovers have been so favored they have been given their own titles."

But Matthew was hardly placated as that brought other facts to light. "You did lie again! You've been saying you did not sleep with anybody else when you went home, you-"

Francis cut him off with another kiss, chuckling. "Don't be silly. My wife is like a sister to me, we haven't done anything since we consummated the marriage." He pulled back, and Matthew just gave him a doubtful look. "Seriously! And even if I did want to, I wouldn't dare. Her brother, the Jack, is very protective. I'm quite sure he would murder me in my sleep if I touched her again."

Matthew stifled a laugh. "How are you going to have an heir?"

"I'm still working on that." Francis sighed dramatically. "It would be so much easier if we were a same sex pair, and could have children without sleeping with each other..." He caressed Matthew's cheek. "Don't be jealous, love. I think you two will like each other, in fact." He studied Matthew for a moment, and when no more questions came, he said, "Is that all?"

Nothing immediate came to mind, so Matthew nodded. "Are we still leaving in a couple days?"

Mildly surprised, Francis also nodded. "If you're sure."

"I am. I'll start packing." And he could tell Arthur everything he had been told. Why wait to write about it in Diamonds? He had other things to look for there. And he'd do it without guilt, because Francis deserved _something_ for his own spying, and almost getting Matthew killed. And because he would be doing something useful for a change, instead of wandering aimlessly around the palace as nothing but the Queen's lover's brother.


	18. Chapter 18

"Mattie!" Alfred nearly tripped over his own feet in his scramble to reach his brother. "There you are! That was quick, how'd it go? Are you going?"

"I'm going." Matthew hugged Alfred tight. "He told me the truth, and we're leaving in a couple days."

"I was hoping it wouldn't work out," Alfred said with a weak laugh.

"So I could stay here, safely locked up?"

"No!" Alfred shook his head. Of course not. Even if Mattie would be safe in Spades... but no, definitely not behind bars. He buried his face in Matthew's shoulder. "What was it like... seeing him now?"

Matthew didn't reply right away, rubbing circles on Alfred's back. Alfred closed his eyes, letting himself be soothed, though the growing stretch of silence was starting to panic him. Finally, Alfred pulled away just enough to look at his brother. "Matt?"

Matthew averted his eyes. "I'm pretty sure I'm forgiving him, Al."

Alfred winced. He hadn't been expecting that so soon. "Really?"

"Really." Matthew sighed, smiling a little. "I guess that makes things a little easier."

"Does it?" Alfred swallowed. Easier? Well, Mattie wouldn't have to fake liking Francis, but... "It'll make spying on him harder."

"I don't know... He did the same to us."

"That doesn't make it right!"

"And it's not like I'll be learning secrets that would pose a threat to Francis or Diamonds if Arthur were to hear about them."

"I guess not..." Alfred burrowed close again. He wasn't sure if Matthew really believed that, or if he was just trying to convince himself what he was doing was justified so as not to be eaten by guilt. "A couple days?"

Matthew nodded. "I'd better start deciding what I'm going to take."

"Yeah..." Alfred chewed on his already thoroughly-nibbled lower lip. "You'll be back for the Festival of Swords, right?"

Matthew hesitated before answering. "No. I'm not going to travel in the winter, I don't want to push my luck."

He would be gone until well into spring... "Are you sure you don't want me to go?"

"Al..." Matthew gave him a squeeze. "Do you really think you'd be happy in Diamonds?"

"Well sure!"

"Because I'd be there?" Matthew pulled away, smiling sadly. "You don't know the language, the only other person you know there is Francis and you're mad at him, there wouldn't be anything for a foreigner who can't communicate with anybody to do but menial labor..." Alfred started to protest, but Matthew shook his head. "And you'd miss Arthur. I don't know what you're feeling about him right now, but you know you'd miss him like crazy if you left. And if you left now to go to Diamonds... who knows if you could come back?"

Alfred hung his head, unable to deny any of that. No matter how much he understood and forgave Arthur, he was still mad at him, but... like Matthew with Francis, he was still very much in love, and the anger would pass. Though he was pretty sure Matt was just being dramatic, and visiting Diamonds for a while wouldn't earn him Arthur's wrath, or a banishment from Spades. Right? Hopefully.

No matter what he did, he would be missing somebody he loved. So... if he had to temporarily miss somebody, he supposed the smart thing to do would be to stay where he knew people and the language and had a good job and would be busy so that time would pass quickly. "I guess I'll stay..."

Matthew smiled. "Good. You belong here."

"So do you..." Alfred grit his teeth. "You're so godsdamned calm about this."

"So I seem," Matthew said lightly. "But panicking isn't going to do anything."

"I know." Well, Alfred was supposed to be the strong one. He couldn't mope while Mattie was being all brave! "Okay! Let's do something."

Matthew blinked. "What?"

"Anything! Something fun. Let's go and get wasted!"

Matthew chuckled. "Al, no."

"Okay..." Alfred scratched his head. "Well, we can hang out somewhere. Let's go to the park!"

But Matthew still balked. "I really shouldn't-"

"If anybody who knows about this sees you and tries to start something, I'll take care of 'em!"

"I don't know..."

Alfred was already moving to their dresser, seeking out coats and scarves for the cool autumn day. "Come on, we should have some fun and forget about everything else." He waited for a response, ready to tack on a 'for one last time' as icing on the cake if Matthew didn't agree yet.

"All right." Matthew reached for his coat. "We should do something fun."

"Yeah!"

Matthew hesitated, handing his coat back. "After I tell Arthur what Francis said."

"Oh." Alfred wilted.

"I'll be back soon."

And soon enough, after Matthew returned and they bundled up, they found themselves walking into their favorite park. They weren't the only ones, in spite of the cold and slightly foggy day, or the layer of dampness that had settled over everything. It wasn't a perfect crisp autumn day, or a lovely snowy winter day, but that wasn't about to stop anyone from enjoying themselves.

"Brr." Alfred tried to huddle deeper into his coat.

"It's not summer anymore." Matthew seemed completely unfazed by the chill as he strolled casually beside his brother. The show-off didn't even need a scarf.

"No kidding." Alfred let Matthew walk ahead of him, squatting down and observing the fallen leaves on the grass. What had once been a lovely array of sunset-colored leaves to play in and kick were now a soggy mess, unsuitable for throwing at unsuspecting brothers. Early autumn was a lot more fun.

"What are you doing?" Matthew peered over his shoulder.

"Nothing." Alfred stood, wiping his knees off. He briefly considered doing it anyway, but changed his mind and trotted over to Matthew. He studied his twin's serious expression with an aside glance, pondering for a moment, then reached out and tapped him.

"Hm?"

Alfred grinned. "You're it."

Matthew stopped, giving him an incredulous look. "Al..."

"What?"

"We're not children."

"Noo... but we missed a good chunk of our childhood."

Matthew tilted his head. "No we didn't."

"Yes we did."

"Not our _childhood_ , really."

"Then what'd we miss?"

Matthew pursed his lips. "Puberty."

"Oh." Alfred rubbed the back of his neck. "Well I don't want to relive that."

"Neither do I." Matthew looked down, examining the grass, then chose a relatively clean looking spot to sit on.

Alfred settled down beside him. "There were some days I seriously considered selling my body, and it had nothing to do with needing the money."

Matthew made a face. "I didn't need to know that! Well I'm glad you didn't."

"Hey, I was a horny pubescent boy, not an idiot."

Matthew didn't say anything to that (probably a good thing). Instead, he toyed with the nearby wet leaves with another smile. "Well you unknowingly brought me some interesting books. I was really glad, then, that you couldn't read."

"I _did_?" Alfred snorted with laughter. "Oops. I wish someone had told me I was buying my brother adult books."

"It was educational."

"You shouldn't have been reading that!" Alfred's sweet little baby brother, reading smut at a young age? How awful!

"Where did you learn the word 'pubescent'?"

"Don't change the subject!" Alfred lightly shoved Matthew, laughing. "Francis probably appreciated your education. And now he'll have you all to himself every night!"

"Yeah." Matthew grinned. "Arthur told me to take my anger out on him in bed. I might just try that..."

Alfred gulped. "I didn't need to know that."

"You brought it up!"

"Joking about it's one thing..."

Matthew poked him. "We're adults now. We should be able to talk about stuff like that."

They'd see about that. "Well I'll just have to try that with Arthur, then."

Matthew nodded. "You should."

"Normally he does me, but I bet he'd like if I gave it to him hard."

"I bet he would." Did Matthew's eye twitch, just a little?

"He's got the cutest little butt, that jiggles when I-"

"Okay!" Matthew finally snapped. "Within reason, Al!"

Alfred laughed, shoving Matt again. "You're still it." He sprang to his feet. "Come on!" Without waiting for an answer, he dashed away, kicking up soggy leaves as he ran. He glanced over his shoulder, and was pleased to see Matthew in pursuit. He nearly collided with a child as he was looking back, and spun away from the startled boy, laughing. He ignored the looks other people shot him as he weaved through the park, enjoying the feel of the brisk wind on his face in spite of his earlier complaining about the cold.

Alfred put on a burst of speed when he felt hands on his scarf, and yanked the ends closer, wrapping them firmly around his neck. He risked a backward glance to stick his tongue out at Matthew, and promptly slipped down a hill. "Oh shit," he yelped as he landed hard on his back, and slid the rest of the way down, thoroughly muddied. As soon as he regained the breath that had been knocked out of him, Alfred laughed. "Ow..." He sat up, looking around to see if Matthew had slipped down as well, or if he was ready to pounce.

Matthew lay not far away, sprawled unmoving on the ground. "Matt?" Alfred got to his feet and stepped closer. "You okay?" When Matthew said nothing, Alfred snickered. "Oh, come on. I'm not going to fall for the playing dead routine, I _started_ that when we were little!"

A smile spread across Matthew's face, and he pushed himself upright. "Ow. I know." He held a hand up, and Alfred tugged him to his feet. "You really shouldn't have done that to Mom that one time..."

Alfred winced. "I know."

"I thought she really _was_ going to kill you after that."

"Me too." Alfred sighed. "That was worse than the time I thought a frog would make a nice gift."

"It might have." Matthew giggled. "If you hadn't decided her bed would be a good home for it."

"You were always the good boy." Alfred smiled fondly in remembrance. "I think the only times you got in trouble were my fault."

Matthew nodded. "Pretty much. Except the time I decided to clean their room."

"I don't remember that," Alfred mused.

"I tidied everything up, made the bed, threw away old papers... How was I to know the papers were important?"

Alfred snickered. "Oh yeah. That does sound familiar now."

"And I suppose I did eat all the cookies Mom made for their friends, but that was your idea." Matthew's grin widened. "I'd suspect that you convinced me to eat most of them so that you wouldn't get in trouble for eating just a few... but I don't think you've ever been that crafty."

"I could be crafty!" Alfred protested.

Matthew nodded. "Of course you _could_ be, you're smarter than you look."

"I look like you!" Alfred quickly cut Matthew off before he could come up with some smartass response. "Oh look!" He pointed to the gazebo in the distance. "A band's setting up!"

Matthew peered in that direction. "Looks like it."

"Let's go dance!"

Matthew gave him a horrified look. "We're all muddy!"

"Oh, right..." Alfred shrugged. "Let's go buy some clothes, then. We can get you some new things for your trip, too. We'll change, come back and dance, then go out to eat!"

"O-oh, I don't need new things." Matthew shook his head for emphasis. "I'll buy stuff when I'm there."

"What's the preferred color of their court, anyway?"

"Orange."

Alfred made a face. "That has to be the worst one of the four kingdoms. I mean, nothing against orange, but..." He reached out to tug on a lock of Matthew's hair. "Maybe a haircut, too, it's getting really long lately!"

Matthew's cheeks pinkened slightly. "I know."

Oh. "Francis likes long hair?"

Matthew nodded. "And long hair on men is popular in Diamonds."

"Okay, no haircut. Just clothes, then." Alfred paused. "And snacks." He grabbed Matthew's arm. "Come on!"

* * *

The days passed far too quickly. They went through Matthew's things to decide what he absolutely had to take with him, and spent as much time together as they could. In no time at all, Matthew was standing near the door of their room, bag of favorite books, clothes, and knicknacks in hand. They had decided to say their goodbyes inside. If they got too upset, Francis would wonder why Matthew even wanted to leave.

"So... um..." Alfred glanced at his pocketwatch, hoping they still had some time. Not exactly, Matthew was supposed to have left to meet Francis at their carriage five minutes ago. He took a deep breath. He was supposed to be the strong one, right? Their parents had always told him to take care of his brother, and he sure as hell had! Never mind that they had often told Matthew the same thing. "You'll... you'll come back as soon as you can, right?"

Matthew nodded. "I'll definitely be back for our birthday."

Alfred grimaced, a soft whine escaping. "You can't be serious. That's in _summer._ It's _autumn_. I thought... early spring?"

"I'll come when I can," Matthew said, though his tone of voice implied he didn't think he'd be back any sooner.

This wasn't right. Alfred should be going with him! He contemplated just doing it for the thousandth time, and for the thousandth time discarded the idea when he knew he'd regret it later. He doubted he could even visit – he probably _could_ , but would that cause more harm than good, just like Matthew's dislike of always having to say goodbye to Francis? Would Arthur even allow him to visit? He didn't know what to do!

"Mattie..." Alfred swallowed against the lump in his throat. "Don't go."

Matthew stared at him for a second, before dropping his bag and hurrying closer to wrap his arms around Alfred. "I'm sorry," he whispered tearfully.

"Don't be..." Alfred buried his face in Matthew's neck and cried, dampening the nice new shirt, feeling Matthew's hot tears dripping onto him. They clung to each other for a few more minutes, wishing time would stand still.

Matthew started pulling away. "I should-"

"No."

"The longer we take, the harder it'll be..." Tears still dribbling down his cheeks, Matthew stepped back, hunching over to retrieve his bag. "If you keep crying, I'll never leave."

"Then you'll be thrown in the dungeon," Alfred mumbled. "I know." He reached under his spotty glasses to wipe his eyes.

"It'll be okay. You have Arthur to take care of, now." Matthew smiled wanly. "We'll be busy, the time will pass quickly. I'll be back before you know it."

 _If he comes back_ , Alfred's traitorous mind supplied. "I know." He let out a shuddering breath. "Put naughty things in your letters."

Matthew blinked. "Why?"

"Not for me. Arthur doesn't want to hear that sort of thing about Francis, it would serve him right."

"You're awful." Matthew kissed Alfred's cheek, then quickly backed away before they could hug and stall again. "You'd better write me, too, even though you don't have to."

"Of course I will!"

"And keep the palace safe."

"You know it."

They looked away, suddenly feeling awkward. What did he _say_? Alfred had never had to say goodbye to Matthew before. "I guess you're right. The longer we wait..."

Matthew nodded. "Francis has probably given up, and is probably thinking this was all a cruel joke." He backed away, closer to the door. "Okay, then."

Alfred plastered on a grin and waved. "See you soon."

"Right. See you." Matthew hurried out the door, and it swung shut behind him, leaving Alfred alone.

Alfred sat on the edge of his bed, not really knowing what to do. No matter who else came and went, his twin had always been there. Now he had... what, seven, eight months? Alfred grimaced. Hopefully he'd be able to sweet-talk Arthur into letting him visit...

He had no idea how long he sat there, feeling lost, and sorry for himself. It felt like hours passed before the door slowly creaked open, letting a sliver of light into the darkening room. Alfred looked up, heart leaping. Had something happened? Was Mattie staying?

Arthur slowly shut the door behind him, restoring the darkness. "Don't you have the sense to light a lamp?"

"I will." Alfred stood, quickly wiping his eyes. He didn't want pity.

"Are you okay?" Arthur said gently, stepping closer.

Alfred nodded. "Fine."

"Al..." Arthur reached out to caress Alfred's cheek, no doubt feeling the moisture that remained. "I'm sorry, Al. You probably don't believe that right now, but no matter what I did with him, I had to send him away. Just until things die down and everyone forgets."

"You don't have to explain again." Alfred stroked the hand on his cheek. "I understand." He paused. "I'm upset, and already miss him, and yeah I'm kinda mad at you. But I'll get over it. The being mad at you, I mean."

Arthur nodded, eyes downcast. "Well as long as he's gone, you can share my room. If you want. When you're ready."

Alfred had to smile, just a little. Arthur nervously asking Alfred for anything never failed to amuse him, even so long after their relationship had changed. "Thanks. I might just do that."

Arthur leaned in to gently touch his lips to Alfred's. "If you want to talk...?"

"Hey, I'll be fine, don't worry about me." Alfred managed a lopsided smile. "I'm ready."

Arthur brightened. "To talk?"

Alfred shook his head. "For the dungeon. Lock me up..."


	19. Chapter 19

Arthur leaned against the chilly wall, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. Again. If someone had told him a week ago that he would be visiting _one_ twin behind bars, let alone both, he'd have laughed at the sheer absurdity of such an idea.

Alfred didn't quite cut the same heartwrenching figure as his brother. He lounged on the wooden bench, head resting on his arms as he stared at the wall. Arthur approached the cell, clearing his throat.

Alfred lifted his head, peering at Arthur through the bars. "Oh, hi. Nice of you to visit. Make yourself at home!"

"It's, um..." Arthur wondered what to say. "It's nice to see you in good spirits?"

Alfred flashed one of his usual grins. Arthur stared at him, and winced when he realized it _wasn't_ one of his usual grins. "You're not, you're miserable."

"I wouldn't go that far," Alfred said, letting the smile drop. "But I should be with him..."

"What, going to Diamonds?" Arthur knelt on the floor, spreading the bottom of his coat tidily around him. "You want to go there with him?"

"I wouldn't like it there at all, but..."

Arthur snorted. How like Alfred to not think anything through. "And how, pray tell, would any of this work? His mission kind of depends on sending letters to you. Here."

"Oh yeah..." Alfred sat up, rubbing his head sheepishly. "That's true. But I could send letters to you!"

"And then _you_ would be doing all his work."

"So?" Alfred crossed his arms, starting to look like a sulking child. "I could visit him. It'd be okay for a month or so."

Arthur swallowed hard at the thought of Alfred visiting Diamonds for that long. Of Alfred being _gone_ for that long. But worst of all... "No, Al. You can't do that. You'd be in danger, I'd be worried sick!"

Alfred stared at him in puzzlement. "Danger? No worse than Mattie, _he's_ the one living in their kingdom and doing their King and committing treason."

"Spy work aside, he's not in as much danger from the general population because he isn't as closely connected to their enemy, and he's the King's lover. You, on the other hand..." Arthur closed his eyes. "I told you, Al, that you could be a target because of your relationship with me. Francis may not be capable of such a thing, but plenty of other people are. If you went there, I can guarantee Francis would not be the only person who knew who you were." He held his breath in anticipation of more arguments, or a rebellious look, but Alfred just looked defeated. "Please, Al, stay here where you belong."

"I'm not going anywhere," Alfred mumbled.

"Okay." Arthur smiled at him, though he felt like he was fighting a losing battle. Alfred was pissed at him. "Just half a day left, right?"

"Yeah." Alfred flashed a thumb's up. "I'll see you then, when we don't have bars in the way!"

"Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?" Arthur said after a moment's consideration. "I didn't just come down here to crush your dreams of visiting Diamonds, you know."

"Oh, I pretty much figured I wouldn't be going there." Alfred lay back on his bench, staring up at the ceiling. "You know what I'm looking forward to? Having a soft bed again."

"I bet." Not food? Not... a warm body to hold?

"But I'm sure you have work to do, right? I'm fine here."

Heart sinking, Arthur nodded. "I'll leave you alone, then." He turned and left the dungeon, forcing his walk to retain its usual regal stride.

* * *

"Well, until tomorrow, then." The diplomat from Hearts gave a professionally polite smile.

"It's been pleasant." Arthur waved to a servant, hovering nearby with a tray. "Please, have a drink before you go."

"Oh, thank you." He accepted the cup, and looked mildly surprised at the dark, aromatic liquid the servant poured for him. "I'd have been fine with tea."

"I know." Arthur waved off the man's gratitude. "But Hearts folks prefer coffee, right?"

"But it would be so expensive for you to import..." He took a sip, and Arthur mentally winced. "Very good!" After another sip, he looked up, thoughtful. "A Hearts man is close to you, correct?"

Arthur kept a straight face, hiding the surprise that they knew about Alfred all the way in Hearts. "Yes, that's correct."

"Perhaps I could meet him?"

"Ah... some other time." Arthur coughed. Yes, telling the fellow that he'd _love_ for them to meet once Alfred was no longer locked away would go over well. "He is quite busy at the moment."

Yao cleared his throat. "He is no longer... busy, Your Majesty. Actually, he's taking a nap in his room."

Arthur snapped his head over to stare at Yao. "Seriously?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Well." Arthur turned back to the diplomat. "Apparently he's napping."

"That's fine." The man laughed. "I was just curious."

Arthur nodded distantly. The servant poured him some tea, but he shooed the boy off before his cup could be filled all the way. Alfred was out! He gulped the tea down, eager to get out of there and see him. That proved to be a mistake.

"Are you all right?" the diplomat said, looking alarmed as Arthur's struggle to keep his expression neutral failed.

"F-fine." Arthur coughed. "Just a little hot."

"Sorry!" the servant gasped.

"I really should get going, though." He shoved the cup into the servant's hands as he stood. He ignored whatever look Yao was giving him as he hurried from the room. Well, at least Yao had waited to share that information until _after_ the meeting.

Was it strange to be looking forward to the release of someone you had had locked up, yourself? Ah well...

Arthur made the familiar trip to Alfred's room, heart hammering. _Not nervous,_ he told himself as he approached the door. _Just anxious to see him..._ He pulled it open gently, not wanting to startle him awake.

Arthur froze in the doorway, staring in surprise into the empty room. He edged closer to Alfred's bed, reaching out to run his hand over the cool blanket. "Not here..." Yao lied?

It took several minutes for their earlier conversation to sink in. Arthur actually laughed when he realized where Alfred was, and hurried from the empty room. It even occurred to him, as he passed the beds and shelves, that Alfred's knicknacks were missing.

After another rush through the hall (ignoring the alarmed squeaks of servants and maids as they flung themselves out of the Queen's way), Arthur pushed open the door to his own room and peeked in.

Alfred was curled up on Arthur's bed, lamplight falling across his peaceful features. His hair spread messily on the pillow, lips parted. His glasses rested on the nearby nightstand, catching the flickering light. Arthur melted at the sight. He padded closer, pulling back the blanket and slipping into bed. He wrapped an arm around Alfred and snuggled close, cradling his lover from behind. It was such a perfectly peaceful moment, he was almost disappointed when Alfred stirred.

"Mm?" Alfred rolled around until they were nose-to-nose. "Oh, Artie. G'morning."

Arthur chuckled, loosening his grip but not letting go. "It's still evening. You just took a nap."

"Oh yeah..." Alfred's lips curved in a crooked smile. "That's why we're dressed."

"Mm." Arthur was just about to lean in for a kiss, but Alfred beat him to it, pressing their lips tenderly together.

"I don't know why I'm so beat." Alfred yawned, as if in attempt to convince Arthur. "It's not like I was working out. I guess doing nothing but sitting around or sleeping for a few days wears a person out." His expression brightened. "Speaking of working out, I start training tomorrow!"

"Oh, that's great." Couldn't Yao give them a _few_ days to themselves? Arthur would have to have a word with him. Though Alfred looked so excited, and it would take his mind off Matthew...

"And the first few days will be just working out and stuff, making sure I'm in shape!"

"I can just picture Yao telling you to drop and give him pushups."

Alfred laughed. "Oh, not Yao. He said for this portion it'll be... someone." He pursed his lips. "Someone. What was his name? M-something. I remember, because I thought his name sounded similar to Mattie's."

Arthur ran the guards he could remember through his mind, wondering which one with a name like Matthew's would be a good trainer. "Mathias?"

"That's him! He's gonna work me hard."

Arthur shoved aside the irrational jealousy that began to simmer inside him. "Good."

"Yeah..."

Nothing was said after that. Arthur started to worry as the silence grew, until it occurred to him that Alfred was asleep. As cute as that was, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. But Alfred would be awake and his usual self tomorrow, right? Arthur told himself that as he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep in spite of the early hour.

Unfortunately, he was wrong. Arthur slipped out the next morning, careful not to wake Alfred, and did not see him again until late that night. He tried engaging Alfred in a conversation about his training, but he just vaguely answered that it was tiring, and involved a lot of running laps.

The next several days were more of the same. When Arthur _did_ see Alfred during the day, he seemed to be walking in a fog, his smile sad. He would disappear for most of the day to his training. When Arthur sought him out, Alfred – looking _amazing,_ all sweaty and worn out and sometimes shirtless on the days they practiced indoors – would laugh and shoo him away because he looked just _awful_ and they could snuggle later.

Then later came, and they would go to bed – finally, _their_ bed – and Alfred would again be too exhausted to do anything. He had never been too exhausted to do anything before, and his job in the stables hadn't exactly been exercise-free. Arthur couldn't help but feel that it was just an excuse.

Arthur just wanted everything to be normal again. He wanted Alfred back...

It was like the brief time when he had sent Alfred away, and hadn't known if he would return. Arthur spent his day in a daze, going about his duties mechanically.

He finally snapped after a war discussion with an army general that hadn't gone anywhere. "This is ridiculous! When is he going to snap out of it? If he hates me I wish he'd just say so!"

The assorted advisers, guards, and Yao turned to stare at him.

"What?" Arthur glared back, and most of them shrank away. "It's so frustrating. I don't know what to do! I can't give him gifts because it would look like I was trying to buy him back. I can't sex him up because it would seem like I was just after sex again. I don't know how to deal with depressed people!" As they exchanged awkward looks, Arthur sank onto his throne, arms folded. "The worst part is I don't even have my best relationship adviser anymore, I sent him to bloody _Diamonds._ " His eyes roved from face to face, then dropped lower, examining the men's hands. They locked on the single golden ring, and he pointed a finger at that guard. "You."

The guard looked around wildly. "Me, Your Majesty?"

Arthur nodded. "You're my new relationship adviser. What would you do in this situation?"

He swallowed. "I... I don't know, Your Majesty. Do you mean... if I arrested her sister then sent her far away to-"

"Whatever," Arthur cut in. "If she seemed depressed all the time, and you never saw her anymore, and she claimed she was too tired at night to sleep with you..."

"That last part's just part of being married, Your Majesty."

Arthur scowled. "Are you trying to be funny?"

Yao quickly stepped closer to the throne. "Let me deal with this, Your Majesty. I know Alfred."

"So do I!" Arthur snapped. "I know him better than anyone here, and I don't know what to do. Bloody twins, I bet this wouldn't be as much of an issue if they were regular brothers..."

Yao smiled mysteriously. "It's like you said, you have to tread carefully or you'll upset him, or he'll get the wrong idea. I don't have to worry about anything like that."

"I suppose so..."

"I'll deal with him. Trust me."

That phrase had never done much to actually instill trust in Arthur, but he just nodded. Maybe Yao _could_ figure out how to take care of this.

* * *

"Is this what you call training?"

Alfred exchanged a guilty glance with Mathias, and looked over at the approaching Yao. "Yes? He's testing my strength..."

Yao eyed their locked hands. "By arm wrestling?"

There wasn't much Alfred could say but "Yes." He released Mathias' hand and stepped away from the table. "But if you prefer, we can run some laps or whatever..."

"I think you're strong enough," Yao said with a wave of his hand. "You should start learning how to fight."

"Oh, fun." Alfred trotted to his side. "Bye, Mathias!"

"You still owe me a beer," the blond guard said, hand on hip.

"Yeah, yeah."

"This way." Yao gestured in the general direction he was heading as they walked. Alfred, meanwhile, was wondering why the petite Jack was going to be training him in weapons, rather than Mathias, whose weapon of choice was a _big fucking axe._ Alfred wanted a weapon like that. Something he wouldn't even _have_ to use, because any intruders in the palace would take one look at him and run!

Excitement bubbled up as they neared the weapon training grounds. Alfred ran a hand over one of the stacks of hay that bore bullseyes. What would he learn to use first? A sword, probably. That seemed to be the standard issue weapon of guards. He'd have to come up with a really interesting signature weapon, though. He looked around for Yao, and blinked in surprise at the sight of the Jack bearing down on him with a staff. "We're starting with – ow!" He rubbed the stinging welt on his head where the staff had struck him. "What was _that_ for?"

"I don't put up with foolish guards." Yao tossed the staff away.

"I'm not foolish!" Alfred protested. "I really have been working my butt off, Mathias and I were just letting off some steam."

"Not that!" Yao rolled his eyes. "You've been moping around and pouting like a little girl."

"Wha-"

"It's upsetting the Queen, he thinks you hate him. Knock it off."

Alfred blinked "He thinks that?"

"Of course he does, you've been depressed since Matthew left, and he feels guilty. And you've been avoiding him, he barely sees you."

"I've been busy," Alfred mumbled, suddenly finding the hay bale fascinating to examine. "He knows that."

"Your hours are no different than before, _and_ you now share his room. When was the last time you talked, or did something together, or had sex?"

"Er..."

"I know you miss him," Yao said, voice gentler. "But you can't let it disrupt your life. He wouldn't like that, right?"

Alfred winced. "No..."

"I miss my family, too. I haven't seen them in years." Yao just smiled when Alfred looked up at him. "After we finish up here, I'll give you some time off to talk with the Queen. You want to, don't you? You aren't really angry at him?"

Alfred took a deep breath. It would always be there in the back of his head, that Arthur had been the one to send Matthew far away, on a dangerous job. But he had to let that go. He loved Arthur, and knew he had done what he felt was best. He hadn't realized Arthur was so upset... Alfred let the breath out and nodded. "I want to. I'll talk to him."

"Good. Now come here."

Alfred hurried closer, past Yao to the rack of weapons. "What first?"

"Actually, we'll be starting with hand-to-hand... what are you _doing_?"

"What about this?" Alfred picked up a sleek crossbow. "Wow. It's so... shiny." He ran a hand along the stock. "Yao?" He turned, blinking in surprise as he realized he seemed to be alone. "Yao?"

Yao poked his head up from behind a haystack. "I'm still here. Please put that down."

"Oh..." Alfred set it back down. "Hand-to-hand? Really?"

"Really." Yao cautiously returned.

"And, uh..." Alfred looked down at him. "Um. No offense, Yao! I think you're great! So don't take it the wrong way. But, uh... you?"

"Me." Yao spread his arms. "Go ahead. You can leave once I'm on the ground."

Alfred studied him. Small, pretty, unarmed, nonchalant... Alfred had a bad feeling about this. "Okay..."

It was over almost as soon as it began. Groaning in pain, Alfred looked up at Yao's small pretty face. "That wasn't fair..."

"I know," Yao said. He reached down to help Alfred up. "Again."

Alfred sighed. He never would have thought he would so quickly long for the days of Mathias running him ragged.

* * *

Arthur dropped onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Gods, he hated feeling so weak and foolish. Alfred was preoccupied moping about his brother, but was Arthur much better, moping after his lover? He'd give anything for things to be as they were. Curse Francis, this was all his fault! Couldn't that selfish bastard have found a nice young man in Diamonds?

Arthur scowled to himself in annoyance. He shouldn't need Yao to intervene for him. This was his relationship, he could fix it! But what could he do for Alfred that wouldn't look like a desperate attempt to buy him back? Well, they could just talk, of course. But Arthur wanted to do something special, to make him feel loved. Arthur nodded to himself. The next time they had sex (if ever...), he would make it all about Alfred, and worship his body down to the littlest toenail. And he could find a Hearts chef to make all the dishes Alfred had ever had as a child. And... and maybe he _could_ find a way for Alfred to visit Diamonds, no matter how the idea twisted his heart. Maybe Alfred could be disguised or something... He wouldn't mention that idea until he had fully decided on it, though.

Arthur was just about to roll out of bed and head for the kitchens to see if anybody knew anything about Hearts chefs, when the door to his room creaked open and he froze.

Alfred looked around until his eyes locked with Arthur's, and he smiled. Arthur's heart thudded in his chest. It was the most natural smile he'd seen on his lover in ages. Alfred hurried closer to the bed, and leaned over to kiss Arthur, hard. Arthur automatically parted his lips, letting Alfred in, closing his eyes as he relished the familiar taste of Al's mouth. His hands slid to Alfred's back, tugging him closer, forcing him onto the bed with Arthur.

"Arthur," Alfred gasped, pulling away. Arthur realized that they probably should talk, even if that meant not kissing, and he unwound his limbs from his lover and sat up. His hardening erection protested, but he ignored it. Some things were more important.

"Al..." Arthur cleared his throat. He hadn't even rehearsed what he wanted to say! Matthew would have had good – no, no, he needed to be able to do this without advice. "I'm so-" He was cut off by a finger pressed to his lips.

"Don't," Alfred said. "You've already apologized. I actually came to apologize to you... I shouldn't have moped around like a child and worried you." He let his hand drop, staring down at his lap. "Mattie's gone, and I miss him terribly, but he'd be pissed if I let that mess with my life, right?"

"You talk like he's dead." Arthur reached down to take Alfred's hand. "He'll be back before you know it."

"I know." Alfred smiled at him again, and Arthur felt another thrill at how good it felt just to see a normal smile on his face again. That was how Alfred was meant to look. "I do love you. I told you before I understand why you did it."

"That doesn't make it easier." Arthur smiled back, wryly. "I started our relationship off treating you like a whore, and now I sent your twin away. I know you don't care about my royal status, so I don't always know what you see in-" He was cut off again, this time by Alfred's mouth on his own.

"Probably," Alfred murmured against Arthur's lips, "the same thing you saw in an illiterate beggar."

"Hardly the same, you haven't done anything to-"

"Just cut it out. We're both idiots, right?"

"I wish Matt were still here." Arthur sighed. "He knew what we were doing better than we did."

"I know!" Alfred laughed. "But it's okay, really. When I was your whore, we didn't know each other. You got to know me and fell in love. I've accepted that. Matthew is being punished for his own foolishness. I've accepted that, too."

"All I wanted was for things to be back the way they were." Arthur lifted Alfred's hand to kiss the knuckles.

"I'm sorry." Alfred glanced down. "I'll make it up to you. We haven't done anything since before Mattie was caught!"

Arthur caught Alfred's hand as it headed for his crotch. "I also told myself that _I'd_ make it up to _you_. I'm going to make love to-"

"Oh, no no." Alfred's smile grew predatory. He slid off the bed, and began unbuttoning his shirt. "I think I'm going to take your advice."

Arthur blinked. "What advice?"

"Your advice to Matt, regarding Francis."

"What advice did I..." Arthur trailed off, eyes widening. "Oh..." He swallowed. "But you said you aren't still mad at me. What anger are you going to... take out on me?"

"I'll find some," Alfred said with a wink.


	20. Chapter 20

Alfred grinned as he tossed his shirt aside, savoring Arthur's shocked look. Attempting to look seductive, he ran a hand over his own chest as he stepped closer, struggling to hold a sexy expression instead of melting into goo at how adorable Arthur looked with his wide eyes. He leaned over and pressed their lips together in a bruising kiss.

Arthur finally pulled away, averting his eyes, and Alfred drooped. In all the time they'd been together, they'd tried every position on every piece of furniture, so why was Arthur acting bashful _now_? Hadn't they apologized and patched things up?

Or maybe he just wasn't comfortable with Alfred taking charge. Not wanting to upset his lover, Alfred relented, and sat on the bed. "Hey, it's okay. We can do it however you want." He flopped onto his back, tugging Arthur on top of him.

Appearing more at ease, Arthur kissed Alfred, working on removing their clothing. He stretched himself with oiled fingers, and Alfred wasn't too disappointed about laying back and watching the show, eyes focused on long fingers that disappeared into Arthur's body. He licked away a line of drool that escaped.

Arthur gave him a lusty smile as he straddled Alfred, positioning himself over his cock. A small moan escaped Alfred in anticipation as he waited for his lover to lower himself down, and...

"What?" he asked, almost whined, when Arthur hesitated.

Arthur nibbled his lip, looking almost guilty. "Nothing." He crawled off of Alfred.

"Oh, come on..." What was wrong now?

Arthur settled onto his back, laying against the pillows. He parted his legs. "Okay."

Alfred licked his lips. "Okay what?"

"Take me. Hard." He changed his mind again, abruptly rolling over onto hands and knees. "Come on. I've been... _bad_."

"Ohh..." Swallowing, Alfred approached Arthur from behind. Why hadn't he thought about that before? Even from the bottom, Arthur was always at least somewhat in charge (or at least on equal terms). Never had he truly given up control entirely. How strange! A year later, they were still discovering new things to do.

He used additional oil to slick his cock up, then reached for Arthur's hips (his slippery hands slid right off the first time), and pushed into him with one hard thrust. Arthur moaned softly, clenching the sheets in his fists. Did it hurt? But he didn't say to stop or anything, so Alfred kept moving, keeping his thrusts fast and hard. He had always been slow and gentle when he took Arthur before, which was thoroughly enjoyable, but this was... Alfred wasn't even sure what it was, his mind was already evaporating as heat pooled low in his stomach like liquid gold.

He slowed down, just a little. "Did you say you were bad?" he purred.

"Mm-hm," was Arthur's muffled response.

Alfred nibbled on his lip, slowing further. _Should I? He probably wouldn't... Oh, hell, just do it. Suffer the consequences later._ He slapped one of Arthur's cute buttcheeks.

Arthur jerked in surprise, moaning, his muscles clenching deliciously around Alfred. Al shivered, almost forgetting to move for a moment, but quickly resumed his pounding pace. He slid his hands over the trembling body beneath him, pausing to swipe sweaty hair out of his own eyes. It did feel a little strange, not murmuring endearments as they moved together, but that would ruin the atmosphere. He was not, though, using sex to take any anger out on Arthur. Even if he was pretending to, actually doing so felt like going too far. Arthur was just moaning and panting, face buried in a pillow, and Alfred was doing much the same. Minus the pillow.

With one last thrust, Alfred's body went taut as he came deep inside his lover. He shook and groaned as pleasure overloaded his senses, giving a few last shallow thrusts.

It finally occurred to Alfred that he had been neglecting Arthur. He supposed that would be okay this once, but now that he was done, he'd have to rectify that. He reached beneath Arthur, and swallowed a laugh when what his hand encountered was soft and sticky.

"You did enjoy that!"

"Shut it." Arthur pushed himself to a sitting position.

Alfred grinned, pulling Arthur into a hug. "I'm glad!" He almost expected Arthur to pull away, and felt a giddy thrill when his lover instead melted in his arms. "That was different, huh?"

"I didn't know you had it in you," Arthur said.

"Hey, I'm a guard now, I can totally be a badass. That includes in bed! Heh, one of these days I'll have to tie you up and-"

"We'll see," Arthur said with a chuckle.

"Hey, I wouldn't do anything to you that I wouldn't let you do to me."

"Really, now?" Arthur pulled back to kiss Alfred. "Then I might have to consider that." He pulled away from Alfred, rolling off the bed.

"Where are you going?" Alfred blinked. "I didn't mean _now_. I know I'm young and have great stamina, but come on..."

Arthur cast a weary look his way. "I'm going to take a bath."

"Oh, right." Alfred scrambled off the bed. "I'm coming!"

Arthur's lips curved slightly. "I wasn't planning on going without you."

* * *

"We're almost there," Francis said, nudging Matthew. "Are you awake?"

"I am now," Matthew mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He reached for his glasses, squinting in the morning light that streamed in through the carriage's windows.

Francis kissed his cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"All right." He could tell he was growing weaker, but it was still nothing compared to before; the medicine Tino provided was infinitely better than the medicine he had relied on in his old life. But he was looking forward to seeing a physician again, that was for sure.

Of course, he was looking forward to getting out of the damn carriage for good, period. He didn't remember the move from Hearts to Spades being quite so long and tiresome, and that had been _twice_ the distance. His child self must have been better at entertaining himself. (Had they gone through Diamonds, then, or left the kingdoms behind in an alternate route? He had no idea.)

Matthew slid closer to the window, peering outside. He stared in surprise as they passed booths selling wares, friendly people chatting amongst themselves, kids playing... It looked the same! Orange was a bit more prevalent than blue, and he could only partly understand what anyone was saying, but otherwise it felt just like Spades. "They'd have us think Diamonds was a vastly different place where everyone is cold and unwelcoming."

"I'm sure people here think the same about Spades," Francis said.

"Probably." He paused, listening to the people they passed. "They're complaining about the price of sugar."

"That's right!" Francis said, pleased. "Why am I not surprised you learned the word 'sugar'?"

"Shush."

They soon passed through the palace gates, into the courtyard, and the carriage at long last came to a stop for good. He couldn't help but think, as they exited the damned carriage, that Francis must really, _really_ care about him to make that trip so many times...

"Your new home," Francis murmured, taking his arm. "For now."

"It's lovely," Matthew said, taking in the fancy facade and its pillars and carved murals. He wouldn't swear to it, but he was pretty sure it was a little smaller than the palace in Spades. He'd have to mention that in a letter. Arthur likely already knew that, but if not, he'd be amused.

They were greeted by an entourage of orange-clad guards, led by a young man with choppy, chin-length blond hair. He, too, was dressed entirely in orange, topped off with a ridiculous beret. His expression was severe as he eyed Matthew.

"Your Majesty," the man said in their language as he approached, bowing. "I hope that you-" And the rest Matthew was unable to follow too well. He frowned to himself, wishing he knew the language better. But his skill level was still pretty good, he had to admit, considering he had learned it from books in his spare time. Then the man's eyes returned to Matthew. "And who is this?"

"This is Matthew," Francis said.

"Ah yes, him..."

"Matthew, this is Basch, the Jack of Diamonds."

"O-oh." Matthew bowed to the scowling fellow. "Nice to meet you." Did the Jack hate him already? Matthew winced slightly when he remembered his sister was the Queen.

"And you," Basch said, speaking slowly. "We've heard much about you."

"Stop looking so nervous," Francis said, reverting to Matthew's language. "That's how he always looks. He probably really likes you! If I have a lover, I'm not going to be tempted to touch my wife, in his mind."

"I see." That only slightly eased Matthew's mind. Leaning on Francis for support, Matthew followed the Jack and guards into the palace. Those who spotted them waved cheerfully, and Francis waved back, or blew kisses. Matthew couldn't help but laugh at the sight. "You're popular."

"Aren't I?" Francis said happily. "Are you still feeling okay? Do you want to see a doctor right away?"

"Soon," Matthew said.

"Okay. I'll take you to the throne room to meet my wife, then I'll fetch the doctor I have in mind."

Matthew nodded, swallowing. It didn't matter how often he was told Francis' wife was like a sister to him, and it was perfectly okay for him to have a lover. It was still _weird_.

The interior was considerably fancier than the Spades palace, with chandeliers dangling from an intricately painted ceiling, frescoes coating the walls between windows curtained in brocade, and elaborate archways. Matthew felt even more afraid to touch anything than when he had first moved in to his palace home. He was afraid to see what Francis' bedroom looked like... Hopefully whatever room he was being stored in wouldn't be quite so opulent.

The room he was led to was no different, richly carpeted and lined in chairs and couches. Two elaborately carved thrones sat on a dais, with a small girl perched on one. She made an exclamation of delight when they entered, and slid off the throne to hurry closer.

She was a pretty little thing, with a flowing pale peach gown, and a crown of flowers circling her head. Her hairstyle mimicked her brother's, which itself was endearing. Even if she _were_ a rival, Matthew knew right then and there he would never be able to dislike her.

The Queen briefly hugged her husband, murmuring a greeting, then stepped back, smiling at the entire group. Her eyes landed on Matthew, and her smile grew. "You must be Matthew!"

"That's right," he said, bowing again.

"It's good to finally meet you!"

"A-and you." Matthew wondered if he should bow again to be polite, but before he could, Francis' hand came down on his shoulder.

"Let me show you to your room," he said. "You must be anxious to rest and be treated."

Matthew nodded, feeling bad about briefly meeting the Queen and then running off. But she simply continued to smile, murmuring pleasantries that escaped him as he and Francis left the throne room.

"She seems nice," Matthew said as he was steered through the halls, once again bombarded by friendly greetings of people happy to see their King.

"She is. I could have done a lot worse, as far as spouses go." He chuckled. "A less protective, weapon-crazy brother would be nice, I suppose..."

Sure enough, the room Matthew was shown to was far too opulent for him to feel comfortable in, and he had an idea he'd fall right out of the satin sheets. But he could hardly complain, so he'd have to get used to it. He would, however, have to do something about the erotic paintings... He was pleased to see that his bags had already been deposited in the room.

"I have things to do, of course." Francis lightly nipped at Matthew's lips. "If you need a bath, it's just down the hall. I'll send the doctor and some food soon, then I'm sure you're looking forward to resting in a bed, hm?"

"That all sounds great."

"I wish I could stay longer..."

Matthew lightly shoved him. "I know. Get to work."

Laughing, Francis left Matthew alone, door swinging shut behind him.

First thing first, Matthew approached one of the paintings. Frowning, he tilted his head, studying it. "That's not even physically possible." He took it off the hook and leaned it against a wall. "Oh... work later." He dropped onto the bed, wiping his forehead, feeling slightly dizzy. He removed his coat and boots before laying down among the slippery sheets.

It fortunately wasn't long before someone showed up. "Knock, knock." The door swung open and a dark-skinned head poked into the room, black ponytails dangling from it. "Can I come in?"

"Um, yes." Matthew stood, wondering who the strange girl was. She seemed friendly, anyway, as she strolled in with a wide grin. "Can I help you? I'm Matthew." She didn't have food with her...

"Michelle. Nice to meet you." She stuck her hand out, and Matthew shook it. She was speaking his language, but with a thick Diamonds accent. "The King told you I was coming, yes?"

"Did he?" Matthew blinked. She didn't mean... Did she? "Are you the doctor?"

"That's right!" She plopped a bag on the bed he hadn't even realized she was carrying.

"Um..." Matthew cleared his throat, trying to think of a polite way to phrase this. "But you're a girl."

She looked up, brows lowering. "What was that?"

Matthew winced. "I mean... you're young. I'm surprised by your age. Not your gender."

"Oh." Her smile quickly returned, and she resumed rummaging through her bag. "Well, I am older than I look. And I started from a young age."

"I see." Matthew reached for one of his bags, where he kept his own medical supplies, and the written instructions from Tino. Hopefully Michelle knew enough of the language to understand it... Francis could translate, if not. "Well... I was really hoping for someone who was more... um... familiar with my disease."

She didn't look up from her task. "You mean like someone who watched loved ones die from it and vowed then and there that she would become a doctor and fight that disease and never let anyone else die from it again?"

"Um. Yes." They did not seem to be off to the best start. "Sorry."

"It's all right! Most people picture physicians as old men with wise eyes and white hair." She noticed the paper Matthew was holding and grabbed it from him, scanning it quickly. "Oh, this is useful!"

Here was another girl Matthew couldn't help but like. He smiled at her enthusiasm. "Well I'm glad you seem so excited to care for me."

"I sure am." She set the instructions aside and turned to fully look at Matthew. "All right, I'd better take a look at you and see what I'm dealing with."

Matthew hesitated. "You don't mean...?" She was still a _girl_...

"Yup. Clothes off, please." She winked. "Don't worry, I'm a professional."

With a sigh, Matthew started unbuttoning his shirt. If she was always going to giggle like that at his blush, he was going to have to rethink this.


	21. Chapter 21

Alfred ran his fingers along the wall, smiling fondly as they traced over marks that had been sliced into it. Measuring the ever-increasing height of a pair of rapidly growing boys... That was the idea, anyway; they had only done so once. The boys had not lived in this house long enough to document their entire childhood.

"Can we _please_ go get drinks now?" Mathias leaned against a doorway, almost looking like he was sulking. While they no longer trained together, now that Alfred had graduated from exercise to combat to weapon use, Mathias still made a good drinking buddy.

"Soon." Alfred closed his eyes against the memories. "This was our house."

"Huh. Oh yeah? Looks lot nicer than I'd expect. No offense or anything, but... you know..."

Alfred glanced at him, laughing quietly at Mathias' awkward expression. "This is the house our parents bought when we first moved to Spades. Matt and I downsized after we were on our own..." Not much had changed, either. The nice young couple who had purchased it from Alfred hadn't done much to make it their own, aside from a few pieces of furniture. It was all too easy to remember.

" _Daddy... come on, finish up." The soup Alfred had made was not the most hearty in the world, tasting more like salted water than broth, but it had to be better than nothing. Alfred had managed to get some into his mother, but his father was being more stubborn. With a sigh, Alfred set the bowl aside and grabbed a cloth from the bowl of water, wringing it out before mopping off the unresponsive man's clammy forehead. "You'll get medicine soon."_

_Alfred looked toward the door again, wondering for the millionth time what the hold up was. Matthew knew better than to become sidetracked when he went to pick up the herbs that were rumored to help those that were sick. "I should go find him..." Alfred mused, though he hated leaving his parents alone. "Yeah, I'll go look real quick. You're in charge, Dad!" Smiling weakly at them, Alfred stood, grabbing his coat as he hurried to the front door._

_He didn't need to go far. Just flinging the door open revealed the small shape collapsed on the path that led to their front door. "Matt!" Alfred raced to his twin's side, wondering if he had worked his brother too hard. "Hey, Matt, come on, it's not..." He trailed off as he rolled Matthew over. He was flushed and sweaty, shivering, breath shallow. "Oh. You're sick..."_

_Alfred's heart shattered. His parents were dying, and now Mattie was, too. He lost a large chunk of time to clinging to Matthew and sobbing, not even remembering they were still outside until he awoke beside his brother sometime later, having fallen into a fitful sleep. Barely noticing the damp that clung to him, he finally dragged Matthew inside, so that he could take care of him and wait for the day when he'd be alone._

"Al?" Mathias was peering at him. "The chair isn't that interesting."

"Oh, sorry." Alfred shook himself. "Just looking around. It's just like I remember!" He stepped into the kitchen, eyes landing on the window that faced the garden out back. There were a lot more plants than he remembered; at least the other owners had tended to it.

_Alfred thought his arms were going to fall off. He set the shovel aside, dropping onto the dirt, wiping at the sweat dripping down his face. He was exhausted, and hadn't even finished one grave yet! How was he going to finish both of them? He frowned to himself, wondering why this was so difficult, unaware of the toll his self-neglect was taking as he cared for everyone else._

_He felt numb. He had awakened that morning to find both of his parents dead, and had cried until it felt like there was nothing left to cry. Now he was going about his chores in a daze._

_At least, he mused to himself, they had not really regained consciousness since Matthew had fallen ill. At least they'd never know one of their sons was dying, too._

_His hands were covered in pinpricks from his attempt to sew them into sheets as shrouds. But he had never actually learned how to sew, and had finally resorted to... somewhat tying them into shrouds. It would have to do._

_Fortunately, just as he was struggling to resume his digging, a neighbor noticed him and found out what was going on. His parents were taken away and given a real burial. Alfred left the hole as it was. It wasn't big enough for an adult yet, but he'd be needing a smaller one soon._

"You look seriously unhappy, man." Mathias tugged at Alfred's arm. "You shouldn't buy places that upset you!"

"Hey, it's okay." Alfred grinned. "There's happy memories here, too!"

" _Time for food." Time for the unhappy task of once again forcing broth into an unresponsive body, anyway. Alfred hated meal time. Bath time wasn't too bad, if a little gross, but he tried thinking of his brother as a pet. Which was probably mean, but it helped._

_He walked into the room, and promptly dropped the tray, weak broth spilling over the floor and his toes. "M-Matt...?"_

_In the weeks since their parents' passing, that he'd been caring for Matthew, he had anticipated every day walking in to find his brother dead._

_He had never anticipated walking in to find his brother looking at him!_

_Alfred hurried to Matthew's side, gaping. "Matt? What's going on?"_

_Matthew mumbled something undecipherable, shivering. But that was definitely an attempt at speech! His eyes were unfocused, but they were open and looking at Alfred!_

_They weren't supposed to wake up. Not this far into it. Alfred knew that much, at least._

_Matthew was going to live! Alfred dropped to his knees and hugged his brother, laughing and crying at the same time. Matthew mumbled something else, and Alfred could have sworn it had to do with spilled food._

"Well that's all well and good," Mathias said as they left the house. His expression had brightened now that they were on their way at last. "But the Queen is going to be furious that you've bought yourself your own place!"

Alfred laughed. He couldn't help but remember Arthur's offer for Alfred to find a place of his own, long ago. Of course, he knew it hadn't been sincere, just Arthur's way of letting Alfred know he wasn't supposed to be just a palace whore. "I'm not going to _live_ there."

"So you bought the place just to own it?" Mathias snorted. "You really do need somebody else in charge of your finances without Matthew around."

"Shut up." Alfred elbowed him. "No, no, I'm going to be a _landlord!_ I'll let some family who couldn't otherwise afford a decent place live there for really really cheap!"

"Why?"

"What the hell do you mean _why_?" Alfred sputtered. "I know _you've_ never been poor, but you could at least understand how it would be nice to have a home."

"Yeah, but..." Mathias shrugged, looking awkward again. "Any rich person could buy houses for poor people. But they don't. Because then poor people would expect it, and the ones who didn't get a house would get mad, and there would be a riot, and... yeah."

"Well I don't care," Alfred said. "I'm still gonna do it. And the house we lived in after that, it's not much, but someone who doesn't have a home at all will like it. That's two homes I can give people!"

"And five billion homeless people who will be envious and mad."

"It's not five billion!"

Mathias sighed. "Is that what you bought all that food for, too?"

"Maybe..."

"You're going to be mobbed every time you leave the palace!"

"I don't care." Alfred folded his arms. "Unlike other nobles, I know what it's like. I'd have loved for some rich person to walk by and offer me food or money when I didn't have any."

"They _did_! That's why you were a beggar."

"Well, yeah... but I had to ask for it." Alfred shook his head. "And we never got mad at the people who gave other beggars something."

"You didn't?"

"Well, sometimes... And we didn't mob nobles we recognized who'd given us something before."

"You didn't?"

"No!"

Mathias chuckled. "The Queen is going to be a little unhappy when he finds out you're behind the upcoming riots, when peasants storm the castle demanding their free food and houses."

Alfred pushed open the door to the pub. "Eh, whatever..."

* * *

"Ow!" Alfred's instinct was to drop the rapier and grab his injured arm, but instead he just frowned at his current trainer in the art of killing people. He had been surprised, when they initially introduced him to the one who would be showing him how to use swords, staring in shock until the other had smiled politely and reminded Alfred that he had a life outside of work.

Tino just shrugged. "You're the one who decided we'd had enough practice with fake swords."

"Yeah, well..." He stuck his tongue out. "You better fix that for me."

"Oh, I barely scratched you. Probably doesn't even need stitches."

"Good." Alfred suppressed a shudder.

"You're good with a sword," Tino said, stepping closer. "You just need to learn to maybe hold it in a bit better if you're hurt. If someone's attacking you, and they slice you open, you don't want to stop and whine about it while they take the opportunity to chop your head off." He tugged his sweaty shirt up to show Alfred where he had been nicked across the ribs. "See? You didn't even know you'd done that."

"Wow. I did?" Alfred beamed. "I got you first!"

Tino nodded. "So you did."

"I feel much better!"

"I'm glad." He let the shirt drop. "Now let me clean our wounds, then we'll resume."

"But you're the one who said it was barely a scratch!" Alfred said, eager to start another match now that he knew _he_ had drawn first blood. "Everyone else just let injuries go until we were done."

"That's just asking to get an infection."

So Alfred waited patiently while Tino cleaned and bandaged them both up. He wasn't entirely sure if having a doctor as an opponent was proving to be a benefit or hindrance. But Tino was, at least, pretty badass with a sword. He was also patient, calmly explaining repeatedly to Alfred in the beginning that the whole point was to aim for the other person, not their sword, no matter how much more showy it looked.

"I wonder when they'll actually consider me good enough to officially be a guard," Alfred mused.

Tino smiled fondly at him. "I'd say you're ready now, but that's not up to me."

"I want to be really ready," Alfred said. "I can't make mistakes, you know? An assassin or whatever would be really, really good with weapons, so I have to be better, because they'd be after Arthur."

"Hmm. The last one tried using poison."

Alfred froze, letting his rapier fall to his side. "Last one?"

Tino nodded. "Oh, it was a long time ago, before he was even Queen. By some noble who thought his daughter would make a better Queen. He wasn't very sneaky, and was easily caught and dealt with."

"Oh..." Alfred set his jaw and returned to the beginning stance, more determined than ever to be the best guard any royal had ever had.

* * *

"Well that's just the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Arthur frowned at the letter in his hands, plucked from the massive stack of correspondences from his people.

Yao giggled, nodding his agreement. "I agree. Maybe not the stupidest, but one of them."

"If he's so upset about the cows wandering onto his property, why doesn't he build a damn fence? What does he expect me to do about it?"

"You're supposed to know the answer to everything," Yao reminded him.

"I could distribute steaks to the poor. Alfred has been on a feeding the poor kick lately."

Yao nodded again. "I'm sure the owner of the cows will be thrilled."

"I'm not really going to. They should build a bloody fence..." Arthur set that letter aside, and picked up the next one. Ah well. It was better than dealing with whiny subjects in person. "You don't have to hang around, you know."

"It's entertaining."

"Is that a new toy?"

"Hm?" Yao glanced down at the tiny plush cat that was now clipped beside the bear on his coat. "Yes, Your Majesty. Isn't it cute?"

"Very." Arthur glanced down at the next letter. "Dear Queen Arthur. You don't know me, but I think you're very cute, and..." He set the letter aside. "I think I'll save these for later."

"Oh, another of those?" Yao reached for the letter, but Arthur smacked his hand away.

"Your Majesty?" A guard stepped into the room, bowing. "A guard is here to see you."

Arthur stared blankly at him. "I see that."

"Not me, Your Majesty."

"Oh. Right, send him in, then."

The guard retreated, and another stepped in, a bit more dramatically than necessary. "I heard there was a body that needed guarding."

Arthur's breath caught. "Al..." He had been right. Alfred looked _amazing_ in a guard uniform. Blue had always looked great on him with those eyes, and the chainmail, and the rapier, and...

"Breathe, Your Majesty," Yao whispered.

"Shut it."

Alfred strode closer, beaming. "So what do you think?"

Yao bowed, and Alfred looked surprised. Well, how often did anyone bow to _him_? "He will have to get back to you when he recovers."

"You can go now," Arthur said. He reached out to yank Alfred close and kissed him, while Yao retreated.

"That good, huh?" Alfred said against Arthur's lips.

"Mm. That good." Arthur kissed him again, slipping his tongue into Alfred's willing mouth, hands sliding around his back. It wasn't quite the same as embracing soft skin, but the uniform was sexy enough to make up for it.

"Is this how you initiate all your guards?" Alfred murmured.

"Shut up and keep kissing me."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Alfred said, and was quick to obey.


	22. Chapter 22

Arthur felt a wave of deja vu as they stepped through the doors, onto the grand staircase. He almost felt giddy from the simple fact that they had been together long enough to participate in yearly events more than once. As usual, the roomful of guests in their finery bowed as Arthur and his date descended the stairs, whispering among themselves.

So much had changed since the last Festival of Swords. Back then, Arthur was still trying to woo Alfred (though he was _pretty_ sure that by then Alfred already loved him, he just needed a good push in the right direction). Alfred had still been a relatively unknown stable boy, causing much gossip and speculation when he showed up on Arthur's arm seemingly out of the blue.

Now everyone knew he was a guard and Arthur's lover. And everybody liked him! Arthur wouldn't be entirely surprised to find out there were more bows and cheers directed toward Alfred than himself. Poor and rich alike just ate up a good rags to riches story. Of course, it helped that the boy was so damned likable.

His recent foray into humanitarianism helped. Alfred pretty much had everything he wanted now, and used his extra money on food and warm clothing and the like to give to the poor. Many frowned upon his generosity, thinking he'd start a rebellion or something. Even Arthur had worried at first. But no! It just made everyone love him more! Maybe it was because the poor he was giving to knew that Alfred had once been in their situation, rather than simply another rich buffoon trying to make himself feel good through charity.

He was also the first person to be Arthur's date to the winter festival on two consecutive occasions. The poor boy would be the center of attention all night. Arthur gripped Alfred's arm tighter, as if daring anyone to monopolize his time.

"What?" Alfred said.

Oh. Arthur relinquished his death grip. "Nothing. Everyone's staring at you."

He saw Alfred grin out of the corner of his eye. "They're staring at you, dummy, you're the Queen."

"No they aren't, they're used to me. You're the fascinating lover."

"I was last year, too."

"No you weren't, you were the mysterious new date."

"Oh, right." Alfred turned to face him. "What will I be next year?"

Arthur pulled him close as the band launched into their next number. "Next year they'll finally be bored of you," he teased.

"I'll have to do something exciting before then, in that case."

Arthur hummed a noncommittal response, unwilling to inquire further. They danced together among the other couples, and Alfred moved considerably smoother than before.

"You've been practicing?"

"Yup." Alfred winked. "Watch this." He swapped their hands so that he was leading, sweeping Arthur into a complicated dance that just barely missed colliding with the other guests.

"When in the world did you have time to practice dancing?" Arthur had to ask.

"Hey, it's a form of exercise..."

Arthur stumbled over his own feet. He bristled; he wasn't supposed to look like the bad dancer! "Stop it, if I fall flat on my face you're going back in the dungeon."

"Sorry." Amused, Alfred relinquished control again.

Arthur was not particularly surprised when the song came to a close, and a small group converged on them to convince them to dance with someone else. Arthur barely had time to respond when Alfred was swept away by a plump noblewoman. They danced out of range, though the next time Arthur spotted them, the woman was beet red.

He tried not to seethe. It was _good_ that the people liked him. It was. If the Queen's lover was disliked, that would definitely have unpleasant results.

Arthur brushed off a few attempts to dance with him, politely explaining that he was thirsty. He maneuvered his way to the refreshment table and grabbed a glass of wine.

"He looks so handsome, all dressed up," Arthur overheard a young noblewoman say to another as they sampled the drinks and snacks. "The Queen's so lucky!" Arthur had to smile to himself at that. Last year, they were saying that about Alfred!

"Did you watch him this morning?" her companion asked with a giggle.

"Of course! He always works out without a shirt, like I'd miss that."

Maybe Arthur would have to see about removing the indoor gym... He listened in on some more gossip, his ego boosted at the comments on his own attractiveness. At least he hadn't been entirely forgotten about.

"It's so romantic, isn't it?" a man said from another part of the crowd, Arthur just barely able to hear him over the din. "Wanting to become a guard to protect his boyfriend..."

"I don't know." His companion sounded much less impressed. "I heard the position was the Queen's idea."

Arthur frowned. He wasn't sure why everyone knew about that, but what was the problem?

"Oh yeah?" the first man said, startled.

"Yeah. I wouldn't just up and ask someone I loved 'Hey, how would you like a job where you're required to give your life for me?' I mean, really..."

"Well that's not romantic at all, then..."

Arthur moved out of hearing range, mood falling. _That's not what I was thinking..._ How often did guards die on the job, really? None since he had lived in the palace. He didn't _ask_ Alfred to sacrifice himself, it just happened to (very very rarely!) come with the job, and it _was_ romantic that Alfred was happy to do it...

Arthur wasn't going to let that bother him.

He glanced at his watch, noting the time. It was still early yet. His lips curved as he thought about the surprise he had in store for Alfred. It would make last year's fireworks pale in comparison, he was sure.

He could do just fine without Matthew around to advise him.

* * *

Matthew glanced behind him when he thought he heard footsteps, but the hallway remained empty. He chided himself for acting suspicious – there would be no reason to assume he shouldn't be here! – but he couldn't help it. He pushed open the door to Francis' study and slipped in.

He felt just awful about being a spy. Not only was he spying on his lover, his last letter had not contained anything particularly interesting. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. Arthur was counting on him. Oh, he knew Arthur wasn't really expecting anything particularly helpful to use against Diamonds, but still...

The room was cozy, and not all that dissimilar from Arthur's study, full of books and desks and a fat couch by the fireplace. Matthew was already quite familiar with the couch. He walked over to the desk, which was covered in scattered papers, and started rummaging through them. There were correspondences from citizens of Diamonds, both happy and unhappy. Letters from foreign dignitaries. Matthew smiled, pleased. These would come in handy! He scanned each one, starting with those written in his own language, then moving on to the ones he had to spend a bit more time translating next, committing the contents to memory. He would prefer to take notes, but there was no way he was going to have any physical evidence on him.

Nothing earth-shattering to write home about, but better than nothing.

When the door creaked open, Matthew straightened, ignoring his pounding heart as he tugged out the letter he had brought for just such an occasion.

It was Queen Lili who strode into the room, smiling gently. "Here you are."

Matthew swallowed. "You were looking for me?" His skill with the language was improving daily now that he was immersed in it.

"I was. What are you doing in here?"

He held up the letter. "Leaving this for Francis. I haven't seen him today." He set the love note down on Francis' desk.

Lili stepped closer, looking almost sad. "Poor thing. You must be lonely today."

"Why today?"

She reached out to take his hand. "You forgot? It's the Festival of Swords in Spades."

"Oh..." He hadn't forgotten, so much as lost track of what day it was. Was it that time already? Al and Arthur would be dancing and having fun...

"But we've got a mini party for you." Her smile widened as she tugged him from the room. "Francis and I thought that might be fun!"

Matthew followed her, relieved that his alibi had worked and he had not been suspected of anything. "A party for me, really?"

"Well, it's mostly food and a band, probably only a few nobles and servants will be able to attend..."

"That's sweet." He laughed suddenly.

"What is it?"

"Alfred and I, we're going to end up bringing all of the holidays to all of the kingdoms! Last summer Queen Arthur threw a festival on the same day as Hearts' Festival of Cups for us."

Lili giggled, leading Matthew into a room. "That's one way to unite everyone." The large room was dominated by a table that looked like it was about to break under the weight of numerous delectable dishes. Dessert seemed to be the most prominent, and Matthew found himself staring at the array of pastries. A handful of servants and nobles were already helping themselves, and a group with flutes and harps were setting up in the corner. Matthew wasn't sure how lively their music would be, but it was the thought that counted.

"Will Francis be here?" he asked the Queen. "Uh, not that your presence isn't enough."

Lili smiled, though her look was knowing. "Yes, he should be here to share a dance with you later. I'm sorry this isn't much..."

"No, it's fine!" Matthew approached the table, firmly telling himself that he wouldn't be able to dance at all if he ate everything his eyes landed on. He selected a plate, added a slice of beef and enough vegetables to ease the guilt, then piled on the sweets.

For the most part, the other partygoers ignored him as he ate. Matthew hadn't really made any friends during his stay. He honestly had no idea what anybody thought of him, and he was afraid to find out. So he kept to himself, and in return was left alone. It was lonely, and didn't help him forget how much he missed his home and his brother, but he managed. He had the royal family, and Michelle. As he nibbled on the sticky treats, he composed in his head what he would tell Alfred in his letter. What he wrote first in invisible ink was just work, but he looked forward to the letter to his brother that covered it. He had probably bored Alfred to tears in his last one, rambling on about Diamonds.

Francis joined Matthew at last, as he was nearly finished with his plate of food. The King was looking pleased with himself.

"Do you like it?" Francis asked, kissing Matthew's cheek.

That was the interesting thing about Diamonds. Gossip filled the Spades court when Arthur started showing up with Alfred. Here, Francis could do whatever he wanted with Matthew and not a single eyebrow was raised.

He still insisted he had never cheated on Matthew, though.

"The party?" Matthew set his last pastry down. "Yes, it's great. Thank you."

"It's not much, but it was kind of last minute..."

Matthew shook his head. "No, that's all right."

Francis eyed the nearly empty plate. "Are you able to dance, or shall I just roll you back to your room now?"

"I can dance." Matthew stood, and yanked Francis to his feet. Just for that remark, he took the lead. They were occasionally interrupted by Francis' admirers, but for the most part, they danced and laughed and it almost made Matthew forget about what he was missing.

* * *

Alfred laughed helplessly as he was tugged through the halls, Arthur pulling him along like an eager child. "Come on, where are we going?"

"You'll see," was all Arthur would say.

"We're going to miss it! We need to get a good vantage spot. What's wrong with the balcony we used last year?"

"You'll see."

Alfred had never seen Arthur so excited about something! He couldn't wait to see what in the world was going on. He looked around, realizing this was a very familiar route. "Why are we going to our room?"

"You'll-"

"See. I know." Alfred grinned. "You know I'm always up for it, but couldn't that wait until after?"

"That's not what we're doing!" Arthur yanked open the bedroom door and pushed Alfred inside. "Now take your clothes off, quickly."

"Not what we're doing, huh?" Alfred started pulling off his fancy clothes. What had gotten into Arthur? He had always been fond of sex, of course. That's why they had gotten together in the first place! But he wasn't usually so eager as to interrupt what they were doing, especially a party.

"Here." Arthur had located Alfred's uniform, and shoved it at him.

Alfred blinked at him. "We can have kinky guard-on-queen sex any time, you know."

"Will you get sex off your brain!" In spite of his annoyance, Arthur was smiling. "It seems we have fewer soldiers for the parade every year. Every year we add to the parade, with more entertainers or something. Starting this year, palace guards will march after the soldiers."

Alfred stared at him. Looked down at his uniform, then back up at Arthur. "I get to be in the parade?"

Arthur nodded. "Unless you don't want to be."

"You... that's... wow." Alfred resumed stripping, tossing the clothing aside. "Wow! Do the other guards know about this? It's not gonna be me alone, is it?"

Arthur hurried over to pick up the discarded clothes. "Of course not. I just swore them to secrecy."

"I can't believe this!" Alfred yanked his uniform on in record speed, grin fixed on his face. "You outdid yourself! Better than last year's fireworks!" He was _actually_ going to be in a parade! Him, marching with the soldiers, and... "Oh." Alfred's grin fell. "Oh..." He sat heavily on the bed.

"Don't." Arthur stepped closer, reaching a hand out to caress Alfred's face. "This isn't a one-time event, he'll see you in the parade next year."

Alfred looked up at him. "Was it that obvious?"

"What else would upset you about that? Come on." Arthur grasped Alfred's hands and pulled him to his feet. "I've ignored everything unhappy tonight, you can, too."

Alfred eyed him. "What's been upsetting you?" Arthur had seemed fine all night.

"Half my court is drooling over my boyfriend."

"Oh." Alfred brightened, grin returning. "I'm sorry."

"That was the least sincere apology ever." Arthur examined Alfred with a critical eye, then nodded to himself. He turned and left the room, and Alfred trotted after him.

"I can't wait to tell Mattie about this!" Alfred was practically skipping. "I can't wait to see what he says. Can I keep his letter?"

"No. Sorry."

Alfred sighed. "I should be able to keep some of the letters..." He had been ecstatic when he had received the first one.

"You didn't even like it. You whined about how he rambled on about boring stuff."

"Well... he did! But it was still a letter from Mattie."

Behind the palace gates, the parade's participants waited, chatting together. Soldiers, guards, entertainers of all types. Alfred felt like he was going to hurt his neck as he looked around at everyone. A juggler was practicing, and Alfred almost wished he could stop and just watch him.

"There he is!" Mathias waved from the group of guards that waited, behind the soldiers. "Pretty great, huh?"

"Yeah!" Alfred hurried over to them, leaving Arthur behind. He temporarily forgot about him, while he and the other guards gushed. By the time he looked back to find him, Arthur had already left. Oh well, Alfred would have all night to thank Arthur.

"Can you believe this? I always loved parades." Alfred bounced in anticipation, very unbecoming of a guard but he wasn't the only one. "I tried to join it once, when I was a kid, but I-" He was interrupted by the trumpet that announced the parade's beginning. The gates swung open, and the soldiers marched out.

As the guards joined them, marching through the street, watched by cheering, excited crowds, Alfred was the happiest he had been since Matthew left.


	23. Chapter 23

Arthur adjusted his sunglasses, then wiped his forehead, sticky under the hat. It was only spring, but unusually warm out. Alfred had pretty much insisted on spending the day outdoors, tired of being cooped up in the palace.

Arthur wasn't too unhappy to be dragged around the city. He too got tired of spending his life indoors. And as sexy as Alfred was standing around looking all serious, ready to kill anything that didn't belong in the palace, it was nice to see him revert back to his boyish excitement, that came out when he was exploring the market.

Arthur waited patiently while Alfred dropped money in the bowl of each beggar he found. He would never forget his roots, that was for sure.

Another guard trailed them, pretending to look at wares. Arthur sent another scowl his way, wishing just one were enough. Didn't they trust Alfred to protect Arthur? It would be nice to be able to go out on a normal date, just the two of them, without additional guards joining them.

"Look at this!" Alfred came hurrying over, holding a sapphire necklace. "Isn't it pretty?" He held it to Arthur's neck, studying him.

"It's nice," Arthur said, and Alfred made a face.

"Having a rich boyfriend sucks."

"Sorry, love." Arthur kissed his nose.

Alfred set the necklace back down, but continued to study the jewelry for sale. "Maybe I can get something for Mattie... He has a rich boyfriend, too, though!"

Arthur had to laugh. "I can't really see him being a big jewelry fan."

"What should I get him for our birthday?"

Was he asking _Arthur_? Had he lost his mind? "I have no idea."

"Oh! There's something!" Alfred hurried to a booth selling what appeared to be craft supplies.

"For Matthew?" Arthur said as he followed. Had Matthew taken up crafts? It seemed like something he might do.

Alfred shook his head, picking up an embroidery hoop. "Now this would make a nice gift, huh?"

The vendor smiled at him. "For your wife, or mother?" Alfred laughed, and Arthur glared at both of them. Alfred paid for it, and handed it to Arthur.

"I can't say I need another one," Arthur said, and instantly regretted it when Alfred looked crushed. "I mean... you know. I don't _need_ another one. But I really want one."

Alfred brightened, apparently satisfied with that lame attempt to salvage the situation. "Where to next?"

"It's too damn hot," Arthur complained. It didn't help that he was well aware of the fact that his fair skin burned at so much as a shy glance from the sun.

"You want to go back?"

Arthur shook his head. "Not right now. But I could use a drink."

Alfred grinned. "A drink it is!"

The first pub they tried, though, made them hesitate across the road. There seemed to be a scuffle going on just outside the entrance. The instigator was clearly wasted, getting in the faces of a couple men who looked ready to flatten him.

Alfred tugged on Arthur's sleeve, trying to direct him away from the pub. Arthur eyed the drunk, biting his lip to keep from smiling. He was so tempted... but no, that would be childish. Much too childish. Definitely not appropriate for a Queen. But...

He glanced at Alfred, then at the other guard. Nobody seemed to be looking his way. So he waited for the drunk to glance over, and gave him a cheerful obscene gesture.

The response was immediate. Enraged, the man stormed over to them, furious eyes locked on Arthur. Alfred quickly stepped between them.

"Hey there, pal, maybe it's time you headed on home," Alfred said.

"Outta my way," the drunk said, shoving at Alfred. "That little...!"

Alfred pushed him back. "You really ought to get going, huh?"

"I just wanna talk to the little sod behind you." He glared around Alfred at Arthur, who smirked back at him, enraging him further.

Alfred shoved him away harder. "This is your last warning..."

The drunk aimed a sloppy punch at Alfred. He easily sidestepped, then grabbed the man and flipped him over. He landed heavily on his back, breath knocked out of him. Alfred took Arthur by the arm and firmly led him away from the downed drunk.

Arthur felt giddy, and not a little turned on as well. And maybe a bit guilty. "I love seeing you in action."

"That was hardly 'in action'," Alfred scoffed. He looked over at the other guard. "I didn't see you jumping in to help."

"You seemed to be handling it just fine. I can't imagine what provoked him like that, though." And the other guard gave Arthur – his own Queen! – a withering look.

"Yup, I took care of him." Alfred grinned. He pointed to another building, tall and decorated with hanging plants. "Okay, let's try that pub over there! It seems free of suicidal drunks."

* * *

Francis walked in with a look of surprise on his face. He paused, watching Matthew repeatedly lift the small weight. He sat down on the bed, watching intently, eyes flicking over the exposed muscles. As if he hadn't seen Matthew shirtless before. "Now that's entertainment."

"Good morning to you, too." Matthew switched the weight to his other hand.

Francis cleared his throat. "Not that I am complaining, but should you be doing that?"

"Michelle said an hour or two of exercise a day was fine." Matthew smiled. "Beneficial, really."

"Ah. Well, good."

Matthew nodded. "Al's a guard now, so..."

"So?" Francis blinked. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Matthew shrugged slightly. "Guards work out."

"Yes, but that..." He trailed off, smirk growing. "You don't want your brother to out-muscle you?"

"I wouldn't put it that way," Matthew protested.

Francis' silly smirk never wavered. "How would you put it?"

"Just never mind." Matthew set the weight aside. If the sight of him working out had turned Francis on, they'd probably get to a different form of workout soon. But to his surprise, Francis did not start pawing at him right away, but continued to just sit there. Maybe he wasn't all that appealing at the moment? "I guess I could use a bath."

"Perhaps so. I just came to say hello." Francis stood, leaning in for a kiss. "I feel bad. You came here to spend more time to me, but I've just been working."

"You haven't _just_ been working," Matthew said. "We've been together quite a bit."

"And you're lonely," Francis said, ignoring Matthew's protest. "I've seen you moping around. I'm thinking we shouldn't do this too often. Much as I love having you in the palace, I don't like seeing you homesick. Better for me to visit you."

Matthew winced slightly. He apparently needed to do a better job of acting like it really was his idea to be there.

"I have an oh-so-exciting lunch today with some visiting dignitaries," Francis said, looking apologetic. "Otherwise I'd stay with you all afternoon."

"That's all right," Matthew said.

"You can join us after your bath, if you like."

"Oh, that's..." Matthew trailed off, eyes widening. "Really?" His breath caught. What an opportunity! He couldn't have asked for a more useful invitation. Arthur was going to be thrilled, and... Matthew looked up at Francis, meeting his eyes. "No. No thanks."

"I don't blame you." Francis kissed Matthew again, laughing.

He couldn't do it. Matthew tried to tell himself that it would hardly be a worse betrayal of trust than going through Francis' things, or listening in on conversations he _hadn't_ been invited to, but his warring conscience just wouldn't let him. Arthur would just have to deal with it, if he somehow found out.

"I'll send somebody to keep you company," Francis said, before turning to leave.

"You don't have to," Matthew said, picking his weights up to tuck away under the bed.

Francis glanced back at him, lips pursed. "But you seem lonely! You should have more friends. If you're not good at making friends, I'll help you."

Matthew bristled slightly at that. _I can make friends just fine... I just haven't yet._ "Thanks..."

"You're welcome," Francis said cheerfully. "I'll be back later." He left the room, probably thinking he'd done his good deed for the day.

Matthew sighed, sitting on the floor and leaning against the bed. That Francis, he meant well. Matthew would have to try to make more friends and enjoy his stay, for Francis' sake. _No wonder Al likes being busy all day. It does get lonesome, having a royal lover who's always busy. I need to find more hobbies. Besides spying._ Matthew smiled, feeling a bittersweet twinge as he remembered the letter Al had written, his excitement palpable in his messily written words as he talked about marching in the parade. Only a couple more months or so, and he could return.

Guilt continued to gnaw at Matthew as he tidied up a room that didn't really need tidying. Should he have accepted Francis' invitation? He had a job to do, a job that was keeping him out of prison. A sentence that was almost entirely Francis' fault, and they were damn lucky Matthew hadn't been killed. He could still go, Francis hadn't retracted the invite...

Matthew shook his head furiously. He would not.

After a quick bath and change of clothes, Matthew fetched a book to peruse through. His book on the history of Clubs. He settled down beside the bear Alfred had given him for their last birthday, and had finished a few chapters when someone knocked on the door.

"Michelle?" Matthew asked. It wasn't until an unfamiliar head peeked into the room that he remembered Francis was sending a new friend. "Oh, sorry."

"It's all right. Can I come in?" She had short, wavy blonde hair, and leafy green eyes.

"Yes, come in."

She swept into the room, peach skirt trailing behind her. An aqua bow that didn't really match the dress was tied around her neck, and a green headband was nestled in her hair. "It's nice to meet you, Matthew. I'm Belle."

Matthew shook her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Well, I was asked to show you a good time, so I'll show you a good time. Er, that didn't sound right." She turned, taking in the room. "I guess we should get out of here, go find something to do. You've been here a while, right? Someone's probably already shown you around the city."

"Yeah, I've been given the tour," Matthew said with a slight nod. He looked over at her, then laughed suddenly.

"What is it?" Her hand flew to her face, as if seeking an unsightly smudge that needed cleaning.

"Francis." Matthew rolled his eyes. "The people he finds for me, be they doctor or friend, are all female." He made a face. "I guess he doesn't trust me."

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true." Belle patted his shoulder. "It's probably just other men he doesn't trust."

"I suppose."

"Have you had breakfast yet?"

Matthew nodded. "They bring some to my room every morning."

Belle rolled her eyes. "Of course they do. Oh well, that doesn't matter. How would you like waffles for lunch?"

A grin stretched across Matthew's face. "A girl after my own heart."

She took him to a small cafe where they had waffles and tea, chatting idly about the ridiculousness of brothers. They went shopping, and she helped him pick out a fine and quite expensive bottle of sparkling wine the region was known for, which she insisted would make an excellent gift for their upcoming birthday.

When he returned to his room to drink some medicine and rest, Matthew was feeling pretty good. He really should make more friends. Then the cynical part of his brain pointed out that he might have thought about that soon after he arrived, rather than just a few months before he would be able to leave. And that still didn't change any of the facts that had kept him from meeting new people before, like that he was nervous about what others thought about him, and he felt safer just keeping to himself. Maybe letting Francis choose friends for him was a good idea...

When Francis wearily returned from his luncheon, they had servants fill up his private bath tub, and indulged in some slow, watery lovemaking. They held each other for a long while after, until their skin was wrinkled and their bodies shivering from the cooled water.

Then Francis returned to work. And Matthew, still feeling guilty about his conscience not letting him take a perfect opportunity to "work", set off to find _something_ useful to tell Arthur in his next letter.

* * *

"Okay, just let me... um..." Alfred felt his face heat up. Not many complaining peasants, foreign dignitaries, or village heads who visited were female. But he had a job to do. He took a deep breath, then quickly frisked the woman. Good enough, she didn't have anything dangerous under there. "Okay. I'll announce you."

The visitor smiled at him. "You can never be too thorough, women have extra hiding places. I might have something hidden in my-"

"I'll announce you now!" Alfred said quickly at the same time she said "-purse or hair." He shoved the door open and did just that. It wasn't one of his favorite jobs, but their positions rotated; it was a shame he couldn't be in the throne room with Arthur every day, but he didn't want to receive special treatment.

So he waited patiently and announced visitors when the need arose. He entertained himself by thinking about what he had planned for the evening. It had been a random decision that had hit him that morning, but it hadn't taken long to get set up.

When his shift was over, Alfred sent word to Arthur to meet him on a certain balcony before sunset, then he hurried off to prepare, dressing up in a nice new outfit. He spent the rest of the evening staring at his watch, waiting. Until finally, the door swept open.

"So this is where you are." Arthur stepped out onto the balcony, looking around at the setup. Alfred grinned over at him from where he sat at the table he had dragged out.

"I didn't think you'd get here in time."

Arthur stepped closer, inhaling the aroma of roast beef and vegetables. "Is the food cooling?"

"Well, that too." Alfred gestured toward the sky, where rose and pink were creeping in. "The sun was gonna set without you."

Arthur sat down across from Alfred. "Don't be silly, the sun will never set on Spades."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" Alfred laughed, tossing a napkin at Arthur. "The sun sets every day."

"It's a meta... oh, never mind." Arthur picked up the crumpled napkin, smoothed it out, and set it on his lap. "Did you cook this?"

He wished. "No... but I personally asked the cooks to fix us something."

"Are you sure? It looks healthy."

"Shush." Alfred reached for the wine, but Arthur got there first, picking the bottle up. "I only spilled that once!"

"And that once ruined a lot of really expensive wine." Arthur filled their glasses.

Alfred huffed a sigh. "You're messing with the romantic atmosphere, you know."

"Sorry." Arthur scooted his chair around the table, until he was sitting beside Alfred.

Well, that was nice. Alfred kissed his cheek, then tapped their glasses together. "Long live the Queen."

"And his favorite guard," Arthur said. They took a sip of their wine, then set the glasses on the table, as if they both had the same idea at once. Unable to wait until after dinner, Alfred tugged Arthur's face close for a kiss. At first he was planning on making it quick, but Alfred licked the lingering droplets of wine from his lips, let Arthur slide his tongue into his mouth. Alfred moaned softly as slender fingers slid through his hair, before gripping tight to pull his head closer. He wrapped his arms around Arthur, and felt his lover's free hand slide up his shirt.

"The food's getting cold," Alfred gasped.

"Mm. I know." And Arthur pressed their mouths together again in a hot, wine-flavored dance. Soon the setting sun bathed them in its rosy gold as they shut out the rest of the world. Alfred broke away, but only so that he could trail damp kisses along Arthur's jaw, down his throat, relishing his desperate moans. Then he returned to Arthur's mouth; they bruised each other's lips and tangled their tongues until Alfred wondered if it really was possible to tie them in a knot together.

It was sweet, and perfect. Behind the wine, Arthur tasted vaguely of mint. Had he had dessert without Alfred? Just in case he had, Alfred nipped at Arthur's bottom lip in punishment, but the answering groan didn't sound especially punished. He realized his hands had worked their way up Arthur's shirt on their own, and so he gave his lover's nipples a pinch. Arthur gasped sharply. It wasn't the happiest gasp in the world, and Alfred wondered if he had been too rough.

Until he followed Arthur's eyes, and realized the door had opened.

"Your Majesty?" Yao stepped out onto the balcony, looking grim. "You're needed in the throne room."

Arthur reluctantly drew away from Alfred. "Can this wait?"

"No, Your Majesty."

Arthur looked sharply at him, then slowly nodded. He turned back to his disappointed lover. "Sorry, Al..."

"Hey, duty calls." Alfred gave him one more quick kiss. "I'll be in our room."

"Be nice and naked when I get there." Arthur gave the untouched food a mournful look. "I guess we should have eaten first..."

"Your Majesty," Yao said again. "Please."

"I'm coming." Arthur hurried inside without any further hesitation, leaving Alfred alone. He ate a few bites, then instructed the nearest servant to do something useful with the food before headed for their bedroom, wondering what to do while waiting to finish their romantic night.


	24. Chapter 24

"My legs are starting to cramp," Francis mused. He nudged the body seated on his lap. "Much as I like having you there, I really wish you'd consider the other chair."

"It's not another chair," Matthew said. "It's a throne. And it's your wife's."

"She's not in the throne room, is she?"

"Nooo..." Matthew slid of Francis' lap anyway. "But I shouldn't be here in the first place, I can go wait for you." As informative as it would be to stick around... But Matthew couldn't seem too eager. And if somebody important _did_ show up, his conscience would probably just force him to leave again if Francis acted all trusting.

"Silly thing." Francis patted Matthew on the butt. "I still have an hour free, there's no reason for you to leave now. I'd be bored! What am I supposed to do, talk to Basch?"

Matthew turned to face him. "But still, you never know-"

"Your Majesty?" Speaking of, there was Basch, stepping into the room. "There is an entourage here to see you, they say it's a matter of some importance."

"See?" Matthew said. "You know you don't get free time. I'll be in my room, okay?" Sometimes Francis _did_ tell him about it later. More than one letter had been composed after listening to Francis babble on about a meeting, after too much wine. Why was he able to take advantage of that situation but not others? He really wasn't sure. Probably because hearing information against his will from a drunken idiot just wasn't as guilt inducing.

Francis nodded absently, and Matthew headed for the exit. "Who are they, Basch?" Francis asked.

The Jack cleared his throat. "They are from Spades. They come under the flag of peace."

Matthew froze on his way to the door. "Spades...?" He slowly turned to meet Francis' shocked expression. "What... what could Arthur want?"

Francis licked his lips. "I suppose we'll find out. But you..." His eyes widened. "You have to hide!"

"Hide?" Oh, right! "Ah, yes!" He looked around wildly for a way out. If someone from Spades saw and recognized him... and did not act surprised to see him there...

"Behind the throne," Francis said, "quickly!"

Matthew nodded and scurried behind Francis' throne. Only a moment later, the door swung open and several sets of footsteps marched in. Matthew's pulse sped up as he wondered what they could possibly be visiting for. Under the peace flag... but that only meant their little group came in peace. They could still be discussing something unpleasant. _You wouldn't have any evil plans for Diamonds... would you?_ Matthew silently asked Arthur. _I haven't given you any_ bad _information about them, nothing to use against them..._ It couldn't be about him, could it? Of course not. Arthur wouldn't give away the fact that anyone but Alfred knew Matt was there. He wouldn't do anything unless he heard something terrible had happened and he needed to send a rescue crew...

Matthew tilted his head at Francis' sharp intake of breath. _Was that good or bad? What's going on?_

"Ah... welcome," Francis said. "This is quite a surprise."

"I know, right? We didn't – oh! It's nice to meet you, Your Majesty."

Matthew's hand flew to his mouth. _Alfred! By all the gods, it's you, you're here!_ Tears burned his eyes as it struck him like a physical blow just how much he missed his twin. _You're here... you did this to see me?_ No, that was silly. Alfred would visit by himself, to avoid pretense. Now Al and Francis had to pretend not to know each other, for the sake of the other Spades men, who were already aware that they knew each other, but not from Francis' point of view, and... It was confusing enough for Matthew, would Alfred be able to keep up?

Matthew forced his shock and elation aside to pay attention to the conversation again. "I'm Alfred," he was saying, "a guard in the Spades palace, and Queen Arthur's consort."

 _Oh,_ Matthew thought giddily, _so he did come up with a fancy title for himself as the Queen's lover._ And once they hurried up and got all these formalities out of the way, Francis could offer the guests rooms to stay in, and Alfred and Matthew could spend all day together! Hopefully much longer. How long were they visiting?

"The Queen sent his consort?" Francis sounded amused.

"Oh, leading the expedition was my idea. I'm, uh, not here officially as a consort, I was just saying..."

More pleasantries were exchanged. The others might have been introduced, but Matthew missed it in his excited musing at everything he would say to Alfred (all he caught was that they were soldiers). Then Francis said, "I'm almost afraid to ask what brings you here."

"Nothing good," Alfred agreed, and Matthew tensed at the seriousness of his voice. "It's what we've feared for a long time..." His voice quavered, and Matthew's heart raced. What had happened to upset him like that? "Clubs has decided to attack."

Matthew pressed his hand harder against his mouth to keep the gasp in, though Francis did not need to show any such restraint.

"You can't be serious," Francis breathed.

"I'm afraid so," Alfred said, voice soft. "Last I heard, their army was heading for the border, led by the Queen."

"The Queen herself leads the army?" Francis said, incredulous.

"She does."

 _Oh no_ , Matthew thought, eyes bulging in horror. _No no no..._

"And you've come to ask for Diamonds' help," Francis said, not bothering to phrase it as a question.

"Yes. Obviously he wouldn't ask if it wasn't..."

"I know," Francis said.

"Another group of ours is heading for Hearts to request help, but they're twice as far. Uh, as you know. And... and keep in mind... if we fall, who the Clubs army will go after next. And Queen Arthur is willing to negotiate for... for compensation."

Nothing was said for a time, and Matthew desperately wished he could see them. He had wanted so badly to see his brother, but not like this...! Not to be informed that Spades was in terrible danger.

"A servant will show you to your rooms," Francis said finally, "if you don't mind. I will discuss the matter with my wife and advisers. We will give you our decision tonight, tomorrow morning at the latest."

Matthew frowned to himself. How could Francis not jump at the chance to help a kingdom in need? Especially the kingdom his lover called home... Politics, he supposed. No, a decision like that couldn't be made right away, even if the King already knew what the answer would be.

It was all Matthew could do to remain crouched in his hiding spot, waiting, as Francis gave instructions to servants, and the guests were led away. He wasn't sure whether it was his anxiousness to see Alfred, or his worry for Spades that was stronger in the swirling kaleidoscope of emotions that raged through him.

At long last, the footsteps faded, and Francis peeked over the top of the throne. "You can come out now."

Matthew levered himself up, wincing at the cramp in his legs. "Al's here..."

"That he is." Francis smiled slightly, offering an arm to Matthew. "Too bad it couldn't be under happier circumstances."

Matthew nodded absently. "You'll help us, right? Spades, I mean."

"Of course I want to help," Francis soothed as he led Matthew toward the exit. "But if the Queen and Jack and others disagree..."

"You're the King!" Matthew said, feeling a twinge of panic. He had to help! Spades couldn't succeed against Clubs on its own!

"I know." Francis gave his arm a squeeze. "And the best smooth-talker in the world. Lili will agree, I can almost guarantee. Basch might need a bit of convincing, but if the Jack is the only opponent, that won't make much difference."

Matthew let out a slow breath. "We'll await your decision, then. Where's Al?"

Francis pointed Matthew in the right direction, and he raced off.

* * *

Man, Matt wasn't kidding in his letters when he said the place was too fancy. Alfred wanted to explore his room, but was afraid to touch anything for fear of breaking something that had an unimaginable cost. As his fingers started to twitch with the desire to feel the anatomically correct figurines on the shelf, he busied himself at the window, looking out at Diamonds. It didn't quite seem to be the depraved orgies-on-the-street hellhole some Spades folks would have one believe.

Alfred sighed as he watched the distant figures go about their day, happy and carefree. If only things were like that back home... _Hang in there, Artie._ How long, he wondered, would it take the Diamonds army to reach Spades, should Francis agree to help? Long enough for the Clubs army to reach Spades? Had they already? Part of him wished he had stayed behind to protect his kingdom, but Arthur had figured someone who knew Francis would have a better chance of convincing him to risk his soldiers helping a long-time foe.

Alfred leaned against the windowsill, resting his face on his folded arms. At least Francis wasn't going to take a week to decide. They'd be leaving tomorrow at the latest. Well, as soon as the soldiers were ready to march. How long would _that_ take?

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the door to his room slamming open. Alfred spun around with a surprised yelp, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there, just in time to be tackled. Even as they tumbled to the ground, Alfred laughed in delight, wrapping his arms around the attacker. "Hey, Matt..."

"Hi," Matthew said, burying his face against Alfred's chest.

Alfred swallowed. "I missed you." He squeezed his brother tight, not wanting to let go. But laying on the floor wasn't the most comfortable position for a reunion, and they sat up, laughing in spite of the tears.

"So..." What did he say? Alfred had never been at a loss for words with Matthew before. But he'd never been away from him for several months before... "Hey, you've been working out?" He poked at Matthew's arm. "You look great, that girl doctor of yours does good!"

Matthew smiled, poking Alfred back. "You do, too."

"You're not picking up a ridiculous accent, are you? You need to talk our language more often." Teasing was a good comfort zone.

"I'm not!" Matthew protested. "If anything, your Spades accent's getting worse."

Alfred grinned, though it soon fell. "Did Francis tell you why I'm here?"

Matthew's expression also grew melancholy. "I heard. I was there, he made me hide behind the throne." He scooted forward to hug Alfred again. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," Alfred mumbled. "Hope our army can hold them off long enough for reinforcements to arrive. So many of our soldiers were at the Diamonds border..."

Matthew flinched. "Yeah."

"But Arthur sent a message to them as soon as the Clubs army was spotted."

Matthew let out a breath. "This wasn't how our reunion was supposed to be."

"I know..." Alfred lay his head on Matthew's shoulder. "But we've got the rest of the day. We should try not to focus on the unpleasant stuff for now, right?"

Matthew shook his head, scooting back. "Not just the rest of the day. I'm going with you."

His look of defiance deflated a bit when Alfred merely nodded. "We figured you would." He felt a little thrill of happiness that Matthew would be returning to Spades with him. It would be silly to wish Matthew would remain safe in Diamonds. He wouldn't want that.

"Although... how am I going to do it?" Matthew leaned back against the bed with a sigh. "From Francis' point of view, it would be disastrous for the other Spades men to find out I'm here."

"We'll disguise you," Alfred said. The whole situation made his head hurt. Arthur and Yao and everyone had spent what must have been hours drilling into Alfred's head who knew about what regarding Matthew. He had only put up with that knowing it was his brother's safety they were talking about.

"Disguise?" Matthew said, frowning.

"Sure. You're not trying to fool anybody but Francis, all the soldiers know that you're here and that they can't reveal that they know. As long as they don't 'recognize' you, it'll be fine."

"Oh..."

Alfred grinned. "After we cross the border into Spades, we can even pretend to meet up with you. Then we can drop all the pretense."

"That'd be nice." Matthew finally levered himself up, and Alfred followed suit. "So, do you want me to show you around Diamonds? Introduce you to anyone?"

"Not really," Alfred said with a shake of his head. "Let's just hang out."

They spent the rest of the day sitting together and talking about everything. Everything they had experienced and felt in the last several months that they hadn't been able to express in occasional letters. For a short time, Alfred was able to set aside his worry about what was happening back home as he enjoyed spending time with his brother, something he had always taken for granted before. Occasionally they wouldn't even talk, just sitting together.

Late that evening, as they were starting to figure they'd have to do _something_ about getting food, Francis himself showed up.

"Oh, er, uh..." Alfred hurried to his feet, wondering if he still needed to be formal. Probably not, they had been friends before. Part of him still wanted to smack Francis for starting this whole mess with Matthew in the first place.

"Basch is readying the soldiers as we speak," Francis said. "And a messenger is being sent ahead to those stationed at your border, we'll pick them up along the way."

Alfred's heart soared. He hadn't figured Francis would just abandon them, but it was a huge relief to know for sure that they would be receiving help. "Thank you."

Francis nodded. "The entire army will not be leaving, of course. My kingdom can't be left undefended. But I will send everyone I can spare."

"Thanks," Alfred said again.

"I'm going, too," Matthew said, and Francis didn't seem surprised. But he had things to do, and didn't even stick around long enough for them to explain their plan of "disguising" Matthew from the other Spades soldiers.

They had dinner sent to Alfred's room, and they continued to talk about every little random thing they could think of. Alfred laughed about Tino's swordsman skills, and the other guards' quirks. Matthew talked about every inch of Diamonds and the people he had met. They reminisced about their childhood. Their conversation was slightly more lighthearted now that they had Francis' answer.

That night, they slept curled up together like they used to, enjoying one last night of peace. Tomorrow, they would prepare to return home.

* * *

Matthew could hardly believe he was finally back in Spades, where he belonged. His butt would never be the same, unused to a saddle, but they had brought no wagons to offer occasional relief, aside from those that carried supplies.

They were currently a small group, which was a pleasant change. They had left Diamonds with a large chunk of army, and picked up an even larger chunk as they neared the border. After a time, as planned, Matthew – who had spent the trip disguised as a Diamonds soldier – stripped the uniform off with relief and pretended to join them. Francis, leading his troops and probably barely paying attention to what Matthew was doing, did not bat an eye the whole time.

Once they neared the first Spades city, a small group had broken off to ride into town for supplies and news.

Matthew gazed around the town, feeling almost giddy at the familiar sights, the blues, the accents from those he overheard speaking.

Almost. His excitement was greatly tempered by the dire situation. The whole town felt like it was blanketed in a hushed fog, even on the bright, cloudless day. The faces he saw looked drawn, weary, or scared. Even the sight of the portion of the army that passed through their town did not instill relief in them, if they were even aware that the Diamonds army was on their side now.

They passed by a small house where a young couple were tearfully embracing by the front step, the woman shaking as she held tightly to her man. Matthew watched them worry together with an ache in his heart.

Another house's yard held a young man, younger looking than Matthew, standing with a sobbing older couple who were likely his parents.

"What's going on?" Matthew finally asked, addressing the Spades soldier riding beside him.

The soldier avoided looking at the various households. "Conscription," was the brief reply.

"Conscription?" Matthew's eyes widened. "Oh no..." He glanced back over his shoulder at the boy with his parents. A young son who might not return... "Everyone has to fight?"

"All able-bodied men," the soldier said. Matthew looked back at him, sighing at the sympathetic look in his eyes. "No offense, Matt, but that does exclude you."

"I know..." He turned his gaze down to the dirt road being churned up by their horses' hooves. "Does that... does it also exclude palace guards?"

His hesitancy at answering was answer enough, but the soldier eventually spoke. "No, it doesn't."

"Ah..."

"Obviously some need to stay with the palace. Who stays behind is determined by seniority."

Matthew just nodded. He looked ahead, at his brother's back. Alfred was riding near the front, having pulled ahead to discuss something with another soldier. Matthew felt a flicker of annoyance that Alfred hadn't considered that something he should tell him. But the annoyance quickly faded. They'd discuss it later, he supposed, and it was nothing to get upset about. If these were their last days together, they'd have to make the most of them.

Once their tasks were taken care of, they left the town behind and rejoined the rest of the army. Matthew wasn't sure if he was looking forward to reaching the capital or not.


	25. Chapter 25

"It's good to be home," Matthew said, staring up at the palace, though his expression was far from relieved. He turned to Alfred with a smile. "I'll be in our room."

Alfred nodded. "Too bad you can't come with us..."

Francis tugged Matthew close to share a parting kiss. "Perhaps, now that our kingdoms will be working together, you can tell Arthur about us some day...?"

"Maybe so." Matthew stroked his cheek. "Let's make sure there is a some day."

Alfred mentally sighed. Did they have to get all mushy right in front of him? "Well, Your Majesty, Queen Arthur awaits. Can I trust you to behave yourself?"

"Alfred!" Matthew said.

"What?"

"I'll try and behave," Francis said with a chuckle. "We'll see you later, Mathieu."

"Okay." Matthew gave a small wave, then continued on into the palace. Alfred wondered if he was feeling relief to be walking into his own home at last, or if he was too worried to notice.

"Remember," Francis warned in a low voice, "I don't know Mathieu. You and I have only recently met."

"I know, I know." Alfred tried not to roll his eyes. "We're talking about war, I doubt that'll even come up."

"Just checking. I don't want you to put him in danger."

Alfred bristled. _Who_ was the one who put Matthew in danger? "Of course not. Come on." He walked into the palace, followed closely by Francis. The response was immediate, the surprised looks and whispered conversation as Alfred passed with the long-time enemy king. Did _everyone_ recognize Francis on sight? It was a wonder it had taken as long as it had for Matthew to get caught! Or maybe they had all been recently briefed. Whatever the reason, Francis was the center of attention as they passed through the halls, and he seemed pleased. He even winked occasionally at those who seemed especially interested.

"Stop that," Alfred muttered. "No flirting."

"I'm not flirting!"

The other guards, at least, kept a wary eye on Francis, not falling for his charm. The pair that guarded the throne room slipped inside to let Arthur know his guest had arrived, and the doors were opened for them.

"Behave," Alfred said again as they stepped inside.

The temperature of the room seemed to drop as the two royals came face-to-face. Alfred looked back and forth between them as they just stared at each other, expressions neutral yet still managing to be chilly.

"Um." Alfred coughed. "Queen Arthur, I have brought King Francis, as you requested."

"Your Majesty," Arthur greeted with a slight incline of his head.

"Your Majesty," Francis said, mimicking the gesture. The air seemed to spark.

Alfred grit his teeth. What a couple of big babies. Did he have to remind Arthur that Francis was there to save his ass? "The King has graciously agreed to set aside differences and lend us some of his army."

"Right." Arthur's expression seemed to soften somewhat. "That is quite generous..." Alfred cleared his throat, and Arthur winced. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Francis said, also softening. "Our kingdoms have their differences. Er, obviously. But all of our kingdoms are at risk, and we're all in this together. We've known for some time that the Queen of Clubs wants to expand her kingdom, and that yours just happens to be the closest. Nobody deserves this." Arthur smiled at him, and Francis smiled back. "How is everything progressing? The last I heard, the army was approaching the border. But that was before your consort here left, and it's been a while."

"Yes it has," Arthur said. "They are well within the border, of course, but now that our army has met them their advance has slowed greatly. They have, however, already taken a few towns..."

Alfred stifled a gasp. They had already taken over parts of Spades? He bit the insides of his cheeks to keep quiet as he listened.

"As far as I know none of the citizens have been hurt. But their homes are being used to house enemy soldiers, and their stores used to supply them."

"I'm sorry," Francis said. "We'll get them out. My army is ready to join yours."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you."

They continued to stiffly watch each other, even after warming up a bit, and Alfred groaned. "Oh, for... Shake hands already will, you?"

Arthur eyed him, but stepped closer to grab Francis' hand.

"You're not looking too good," Francis murmured.

Arthur scowled. "I'm under a bit of stress."

"Besides that. Your eyebrows have expanded since the last time I saw them, I think."

"Why, you-!"

"So!" Alfred said. "I'm sure there's rooms prepared for you, Your Majesty. It's been a long trip."

"That it has," Francis said.

Arthur folded his arms, moving back slightly. "Did you want to negotiate terms?"

"In the morning." Francis waved a dismissive hand. "Let me get some rest first."

"Your Majesty?" Yao poked into the room. "Ah, Alfred!"

Alfred blinked, turning to him. "You were looking for me?"

Yao nodded. "Please, go get ready."

"Ready?"

"To... to go."

"Oh..." Alfred looked back at Arthur, who averted his eyes. He was leaving so soon? "All right. Except I told Mattie I'd meet him in our room after this... We were going to hang out."

"I'm sorry," Yao said.

"Return here once you're ready," Arthur said. "I'll send for him. You can say goodbye to him then."

"Okay." While he was eager to join his comrades and kick Clubs out of his kingdom, Alfred had been hoping for a _little_ extra time beforehand. With a heavy sigh, he turned to follow Yao.

A hand on his arm stopped him. Alfred turned, in time to be pulled into Arthur's arms. They embraced, kissing tenderly for a long moment. Arthur caressed Alfred's cheek, eyes glistening with tears. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Alfred said with a shake of his head.

"Try and come back to me, okay?"

"Of course!" Alfred kissed his nose. "I'll single-handedly toss all of them back across the border."

"Good." Arthur lay his head on Alfred's shoulder. They remained like that as long as they could, but Alfred could sense Yao's impatience to get going.

"Well." Alfred reluctantly stepped back. "I love you."

Arthur smiled. "I love you, too."

Alfred turned to leave. Behind him, he heard Arthur say a quick "Goodbye." He paused at the doors, turning back.

"Bye," Alfred said, then hurried from the room.

* * *

Matthew tapped on the door before walking in. A useless gesture, since the guard had just announced him, but he was nervously working on instinct. "Hi, Arthur..." He shuffled into the throne room, which had been mostly emptied except for the weary Queen. Arthur looked terrible, exhausted, dark rings under his eyes. He looked far older than he should.

Matthew swallowed. He hadn't seen Arthur since before he left for Diamonds. He would have really preferred their reunion, after such a rocky parting, would be at a better time.

"Matthew," Arthur said, nodding. "Thanks for coming. Welcome back..."

"Thanks."

They fell into an awkward silence for a few minutes, until Arthur finally cleared his throat. "You're looking well."

"Thanks," Matthew said again. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "So Al's fighting..."

Arthur looked away. "Yeah, he is." He slumped back in his throne. "I didn't bother telling him not to. He would anyway."

"I know."

Another long pause. "Come closer."

Matthew approached the throne, trying not to wince at how much hurt was in those green eyes. "Do you want me to fight?" He hoped that was the case. He'd find a way to make it work. But he wouldn't feel right hiding in the palace while his brother was out there on the front lines...

"Not exactly." Arthur averted his eyes again. "I just thought... It's optional, not an order, don't feel like you have to..."

"What is it?"

Arthur rubbed a hand wearily down his face. "You know the Clubs language too... right?"

Matthew nodded, frowning. "A little."

"But with a crash course with a native speaker, do you think you could pass for a Hearts man who's lived in Clubs some?"

It dawned on Matthew where Arthur was going with this, and his eyes widened. "I suppose so."

Arthur smiled weakly. "You've been such a good spy for me so far..."

Matthew swallowed thickly. Spying on his boyfriend, who likely would not harm him even if he were discovered, was a little different than spying on dangerous enemies. "What... what did you have in mind?"

Arthur studied him for a moment before nodding slightly. "They – the Clubs army – have already taken a few small towns."

Matthew flinched. "Already...?"

Another grim nod. "They use them for supplies, and places to sleep if they want a bed... The citizens aren't harmed, presumably so long as they cooperate. But they... the people there, they've been brave, and sneaky, and have been coming here to keep us updated on what's going on. If we had someone _in_ the army, delivering messages to the townspeople, they could bring it to me."

Matthew frowned slightly. "What if the they leave the towns? The army, I mean."

Arthur let out a slow sigh. "Then they'll probably find another one. But they seem content using those places, and our army has kept them from advancing for a while. If they do leave, hopefully it'll be toward home... I'll work on finding some additional spies who would be good at moving between the armies, carrying messages. I'd prefer if you didn't do that, though."

"So I'm joining their army?" Matthew rubbed his chin, wondering how to avoid such unwanted situations as fighting against his own people. Or brother.

"Yes, that's the..." Arthur trailed off, eyes widening. "Matthew, are you agreeing?" He only look more shocked when Matthew nodded. "Not that I'm going to complain, but... why?" His eyes narrowed abruptly. "You're not taking on a dangerous mission because Alfred's fighting, are you? I want you to do your best, not throw your life away."

"No, that's not it." Well, Alfred going to war probably had something to do with it. Matthew took a deep breath. "It's just... for so many years I was completely dependent on Al, and I couldn't stand it. And even since I've gotten better, people still treat me like I'm made of glass." Matthew made a face. "To this day I can't do anything at all strenuous without somebody getting concerned and asking if my doctor okayed it. And here you are asking me to take on a dangerous and important job, because you think I'd be good at it..."

"Oh." Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought you'd be aghast at the idea. I didn't realize it'd get mushy..."

Matthew couldn't help but laugh. Trust Arthur to feel awkward about this. "Sorry. But yes, I'll do it."

"And now I feel kind of bad that I was planning on sending Tino with you."

"I suppose that would be necessary." How were they going to pull _that_ off, though? "And his role will be?"

"Your doctor from home. You don't even have to lie about your illness, it spread to Clubs. His Hearts accent isn't perfect, but good enough to fool them."

Matthew nodded to himself. "I don't know if I should tell too many people about my illness. They probably aren't any keener than Spades about letting people like us join the army."

"Probably. But we were thinking he could volunteer as a field medic. With you as his assistant." Arthur smiled. "On top of the language, you'll be getting a crash course in basic medicine."

Matthew was starting to feel overwhelmed. "All right." Would this really _work_? If only he didn't need Tino... But if he worked as a medic's assistant, they might not ask him to join the fighting. Unless they became desperate enough to need every man. Tino himself might end up fighting for Clubs. "Oh..." A minor problem occurred to Matthew. "What will I tell Francis? I want to tell him about what I'm doing, without giving him the idea that you think I make a good spy..."

"Why do you have to tell him what you're doing?" Arthur wrinkled his nose.

"Because."

Arthur rolled his eyes, but gave in. "If it makes you feel better, you can tell him it was your idea."

"What...?"

"Why not? He'd believe you if you said you were upset about not being able to help, and we brainstormed this idea together."

He probably would. Francis was too trusting sometimes. Matthew didn't want to continue lying to him, but it was better than the alternative. "All right. I'll do that." He tried to think of other questions that needed to be asked, but his mind was still reeling from the enormity of what he had agreed to do. "Maybe I can have some time to think about this."

"Hold on. There's something I want to give you." Looking immensely awkward, Arthur pulled a tiny bottle out. "Hang onto that."

"What's in there?" Matthew took the bottle and held it close, peering at the liquid within. The bottle was tinted, preventing him from seeing what color the concoction was.

"Drink it if you're caught," Arthur said softly. "You'll be dead in seconds."

"Oh..." Matthew swallowed. "Right. Thank you." Arthur really thought of everything.

Someone else walked in, and Matthew shoved the bottle into a pocket, unconcerned about breaking the sturdy glass. He turned to find Alfred approaching, already dressed in the uniform of a soldier. Matthew's heart broke. "You're going? Now?" They had only just arrived! That night in Diamonds had been the only time they had spent just with each other in months.

"Yeah." Alfred stepped close, eyes sad. "They need me."

Arthur hurried past Matthew to reach Alfred first, hugging him tight, wordless. Matthew averted his eyes as they kissed desperately. He glanced back after a long silence, and the two were just looking at each other. Then Arthur turned and walked away, heading for the door.

Matthew blinked. "Arthur?"

He paused, but didn't turn around. "We already said our goodbyes." And with that, he left.

"Oh..." Matthew moved closer to Alfred, swallowing against the lump in his throat. The odds of both of them returning were slim. Hell, the odds of _either_ of them returning were slim. It was hard to even grasp something like that, hard to really believe this could be the last time they see each other.

"Hey, don't look like that." Alfred managed a smile, a far cry from his usual boisterous grin. "We'll see each other again."

Matthew squeezed his eyes shut. "You know that we don't-"

"We will," Alfred insisted. "Because I want this back."

Matthew cracked his eyes open to see Alfred holding out his watch, dangling it from the chain. "Dad's watch?"

Alfred nodded, pressing it into Matthew's hand. "You're holding onto it for me. So I'll have to come back to get it."

"Oh." Smiling, Matthew tugged out his own keepsake, the silk scarf from their mother. He offered it to Alfred, who graciously accepted the length of fabric and tucked it away.

"There. See? This isn't goodbye."

"Yeah..." Matthew abruptly hugged Alfred, tears starting to stream from his eyes. They remained that way for some time, Matthew wasn't sure how long, but it only felt like a second before Alfred was pulling away. "Wait."

"I have to go." Alfred stared at his feet. "I have to make sure the army doesn't get even a bit closer to the capital."

"I'm going, too," Matthew said abruptly, and Alfred looked up in surprise.

"What?"

"I'm going. Not with you, though. That's what Arthur and I were talking about. I'll be infiltrating the Clubs army, and spying on them from within."

Alfred gaped at him in wordless shock. Matthew waited for the barrage of protests, but they never came. Alfred nodded. "Make us proud. Maybe you'll stop the war all by yourself."

Surprised (though he supposed he shouldn't be), Matthew hugged Alfred again. "I'll try."

They exchanged goodbyes, trying to keep them lighthearted. Then Alfred finally walked out, leaving Matthew alone.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you've probably already noticed, the Arte Stella deck's joker roles weren't included, as those didn't fit in the story. I hope nobody minds!

"Any news?" They were always the first words out of Arthur's mouth, every time somebody walked in to whatever room he was currently occupying. Especially Yao.

"Nothing new, Your Majesty." Yao shook his head as he walked into the study carrying a tray.

"Okay..." Arthur rubbed his temples with a sigh. Had it already been a few weeks since Alfred left? And Matthew had finally departed on his own task yesterday.

"He's probably still training," Yao said lightly. He set down a plate of food on Arthur's desk, right on top of a stack of papers.

"He was good enough." Arthur felt a silly need to defend Alfred's skill, even if it meant that he was facing the enemy.

"But he wasn't a soldier. He won't receive as much additional training as the civilian boys we've forced from their homes, but even the guards are still practicing."

"We did not force them," Arthur muttered. "Clubs did." He picked the fork up, shoveling in a bite of food he barely tasted. He didn't even bother to gripe that the food had better not be too spicy.

"He has great potential," Yao said, leaning closer. "It's entirely possible that he-"

"Don't." Arthur gripped the fork tightly in his fist. "A huge army is trying to make its way here to kill me and take over my kingdom. Almost everyone I care about has gone off to die. The best I can hope for is that I won't lose absolutely everything. I don't need to be patronized with false hope." He stood abruptly, walking over to his study's window to stare out at the kingdom. Yao didn't deserve to be barked at, but Arthur was extremely tired of empty reassurances when he knew there would be no happy ending. He had just recently come from a meeting with about five people assuring him everything would be okay; he couldn't take much more.

"There's nothing wrong with hope." The accented voice from behind Arthur was not Yao's. He turned, frowning.

"What do you want?" Arthur said. It came out sounding more weary than annoyed.

Francis shrugged, leaning against the doorway. "Just checking on you. You haven't been looking good. You're not sick on top of everything else, are you?"

 _You don't look so great yourself_ , Arthur thought, eyeing his long-time enemy. Francis' normally perfectly styled hair was tangled, his eyes sorrowful and shadowed. Arthur found himself feeling sorry for Francis. He didn't even have the benefit of being able to talk about his pain, since for whatever reason he and Matthew had not "confessed" about their relationship. Matthew at least had the excuse of being busy with preparation right up until he left. So really, it was Francis' own fault he had to keep everything bottled up. "No," he finally said. "I'm not sick."

He still was curious to know how _that_ conversation had gone, when Matthew first told Francis about his mission. All Matthew would say about it afterward was that Francis had "eventually understood".

"You should get some rest," Francis said.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Arthur said, unable to help himself. He and Francis had been quite civil to each other lately, all things considered. It was hard to hurl barbed insults at the man who was lending him an army. But some days Arthur just wasn't in the mood. Fortunately, Francis just shrugged again, not seeming offended.

"You _should_ get some rest," Yao said.

"Yeah, okay." He finally left the window, pausing at his desk to stoop over and have another couple bites of dinner.

"I'll return in the morning," Francis said. "We can work on some strategy."

Arthur nodded absently. As he passed by, Francis silently patted his shoulder, and Arthur wasn't sure whether he should be annoyed or not, so he just kept walking.

He returned to his room, still merrily lit by the fire the servants had been tending to. He stared at the flames, musing that at least _something_ was cheery.

Arthur hated bedtime. Everyone told him all the time that he looked exhausted and needed rest. Well of course he looked tired! On top of everything else, at night he had to return to his empty bed, haunted by memories of a warm loving body, and worry would plague him and prevent him from falling asleep. So he stayed up as late as he could, until exhaustion forced him to bed, and sleep claimed him instantly. That was the idea anyway; it didn't always work out.

"I'm worrying over nothing, right?" Arthur dropped onto his bed, still gazing into the flickering flames.

"You're a match for any Clubs soldier. I shouldn't even be considering the idea of them reaching the palace with you there holding them back..."

He burrowed under the bedding, determined to not think about anything that would upset him. Last night he had lain awake unable to stop himself from imagining his kingdom under the rule of a usurping warrior queen. Tonight, he decided, he would picture his army saving the day, helping the Diamonds soldiers out, and Francis being forever in his debt. That would be sweet.

But of course, his awful traitor of a brain decided to remember the past instead.

" _Did you have a nice ride, Your Majesty?"_

" _Of course I did." Arthur slid out of the saddle of his white mare, handing the reins to the young stable boy. His beloved childhood horse had been brown, but he felt white was more befitting of royalty. Even if she was an evil thing and didn't like anybody but him. And she at least tolerated Peter, the stable boy who led her away._

_It was definitely time for a bath. Arthur started to head back into the palace, but something caught his eye. He turned, just in time to see a young man walking a horse back into the stable. Arthur only saw him for a moment, but it was enough to make him stop and watch._

_He returned to the palace and thought nothing more about it. Until the next time he was in the mood for a ride on his horse, and saw the boy again. That time, he was brushing one of the horses, and Arthur caught a better look at him. He was quite handsome, Arthur certainly wouldn't kick him out of bed._

_The time after that, Arthur was just passing by the stables, and there he was again. He was taking a break, drinking some water and chatting with another stable boy. His easy smile, windswept golden hair, open shirt exposing his chest... Arthur knew then and there he wanted him._

_Later that evening, as he was talking with Yao, Arthur remembered that of course the Jack knew everyone who worked in the palace. "Do we have a new stable boy?" he asked._

_Yao nodded. "Did you meet him?"_

" _No. Just saw him briefly. He's very cute." Arthur paused. "Assuming we're talking about the same person. Tall, blue eyes, blond hair with a bit that sticks up?"_

" _Yes, that's him," Yao said. "Alfred. More of a charity case than a talent I just had to hire. His brother is a survivor of the illness, and is totally dependent on Alfred, who was begging just to earn enough to buy medicine every day. So I offered him a job."_

" _Huh. Interesting." Arthur shrugged. "He's nice to look at. Maybe I'll see him again."_

_And of course, bright and early the next day, Arthur decided he wanted another ride on his horse. Alfred must have been late that day, because when he did show up, he was in a huge hurry to get to the stables. He stopped against the stable wall, leaning over to catch his breath, hands resting on his knees. He straightened after a moment, wiping his forehead. Arthur could only stare at him. It had been a long time since he had been so quickly taken with somebody. A few glances, and he knew he had to get Alfred into his bed at least once. Even though he was the Queen and could just order anybody he wanted into his bedchamber, he really preferred not to._

_He was not, however, above other forms of coercion. He smiled as he watched the handsome new stable boy disappear inside to get to work. So he would do anything for his brother, would he?_

Arthur hugged his pillow, trying to shake off the memories. "I sure was an asshole then..." he murmured, using one of Alfred's preferred insults. Ah well. If he hadn't been a spoiled horny bastard, he wouldn't have gotten to know Alfred, and ended up in an incredible relationship with somebody he loved more than his own life, and become a better person and Queen. Funny how life worked.

He just wished there was more he could do to ensure Alfred's safety.

* * *

The crowd broke into cheers, yelling and whistling as Alfred stood over his vanquished foe. He winked at the other soldiers, then reached down to help the downed man up. "I believe you owe me a drink."

The soldier awkwardly rubbed his neck, though he still had a smile on his face. "Heh, yeah..."

Alfred turned to the crowd that had stopped to watch. "Anyone else want to challenge me?" He looked around at the gathered men, who had promptly lowered their hands. "Aw, come on... It's good practice!"

"Alfred..." His company's commanding officer, Gilbert, frowned over at him from where he was poring over a map. "If you're going to be a cocky little shit, I'll challenge you myself."

Oops. How long had he been there? "Sorry, sir."

"If you're bored, there's always push-ups."

Alfred laughed. "Oh, yeah. I'll find something else to do."

"Like push-ups," Gilbert said with a grin.

"Oh. Yessir..."

Many push-ups later, Alfred walked over to the lake they were camped near, stripping to the waist as he went. A few other soldiers were already bathing in the chilly water, talking together in hushed tones.

"Who's dead?" Alfred said, catching some of their conversation as he splashed water on himself.

"I doubt it's anybody you know," one of the soldiers said, glancing his way. "And we don't know if they're dead."

"Probably wish they were," his companion said. "The Clubs army sure likes taking prisoners."

The first one shuddered. "I'll fall on my sword before I'll let them take me."

Alfred looked toward where the enemy army was camped, frowning. He'd been hearing that lately, that the Clubs soldiers took wounded Spades men back to their camp. What happened after that was anybody's guess. They were probably tortured for information, though he supposed it was likely they were simply being forced to join the other side. After all, Clubs' goal was taking over Spades, and then the rest of the kingdoms.

Well they could torture Alfred all they wanted, he wouldn't tell them anything _or_ join them. And any day now, he knew, Gilbert would be telling them they were ready to join the front lines. Alfred smiled grimly to himself as he finished cleaning up. He looked forward to it.

* * *

"That's a horrible idea!" Tino shook his head wildly, frowning. "Definitely not."

"It's a good idea." Matthew settled down on the grass, pleased with himself. What better way to avoid combat than an injury? It was perfect. It would explain Tino's presence without him having to tell people about an illness that would have kept him out of the army in the first place, he could claim that his desire to continue helping his comrades had prevented him from wanting to actually return home, and they wouldn't ask him to join in the fighting. He'd be able to stay in his medic position, assuming he and Tino were successful in acquiring that position to begin with.

The drawback was that a feigned injury would be fatal if he were found out. A real one, though...

"It's not like I'm asking you to chop a limb off," Matthew said.

Tino shook his head again, folding his arms. "No. I'm not wounding you."

"You know it's a good idea."

"Yes..." Tino turned away from Matthew. "Yes it is. But you can still..."

"I can't pretend," Matthew said. "There will always be the chance of getting caught, no matter where I say I was injured. I can't risk it."

"But-"

"It doesn't have to be _really_ bad. You're a good doctor, you can make it look a lot worse than it really is, right?" If nothing else worked, try working in some flattery.

"Well, of course..." Tino said, sitting down beside Matthew. He hugged his bag close.

"It'll be better in the long run," Matthew soothed. "I know you don't want to hurt me, but it's the best way to keep me from being _really_ hurt in the future, right?" He pushed his pants down, leaving his lower half covered only in pale peach shorts. "Upper leg, I think. Just try and avoid any arteries. Er." Tino eyed him. "As you know."

"I'm not happy with you for making me do this." Tino opened his bag, rummaging through it. He selected a blade, and Matthew quickly averted his eyes. Then Tino's hands were on him, and it took Matthew a startled moment to realize Tino was simply yanking the belt from his pants.

"What are you doing?"

Tino took the leather belt and shoved it in Matthew's mouth. "It's going to hurt, you know."

Tino also had a sewing kit out. Mentally groaning, Matthew lay back, already nervously biting down on the belt.

"And it's not going to be quick," Tino continued. "I have to be careful."

Matthew nodded slightly and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to take his mind away.

It was not an experience he would care to relive. When it was over, Matthew sat up, spitting the belt out and wiping his eyes. Tino wordlessly handed over a flask, and Matthew took a long drink, not even caring what it was. To his disappointment, it only held water.

His poor leg was now decorated with nasty-looking stitched up slices. They certainly looked like they could have been acquired in battle. Tino cleaned and applied medicine to the wounds, which fortunately softened the pain to a dull throb. He wrapped bandages around Matthew's leg, and nodded to himself at a job well done.

"I'd make an awful soldier," Matthew groaned. "Whining like a baby whenever I get wounded..."

"It's different in battle," Tino said, giving his hands another scrub with a damp cloth. "You aren't currently running on self-preservation and adrenaline. And they wouldn't slowly cut into you like that."

Matthew grimaced. "Maybe not in battle, but if I get caught..."

Tino looked away. "Hence the bottle we gave you."

"I know." Matthew looked down at his bandaged leg. Had Alfred been wounded like that? He'd probably crack a joke while being sewn up.

"But preferably, try not to get caught."

They rested that night, curled up under their coats. In the morning, Tino tended to Matthew's leg, as well as their usual daily routine. He found a fallen tree limb that would work as a makeshift walking stick for Matthew, and they continued their journey toward Clubs' camp.

His nervousness grew with every step, doubts plaguing him. There was no way he was proficient enough in the language for them to believe he had been living in Clubs, was there? And they had drilled him thoroughly on geography, going so far as to give him an address and have him memorize details of the surrounding area in case he was questioned on where he lived. But knowing his luck, he would run into others who lived in that area. And what if the other soldiers asked around, and realized nobody had ever seen Matthew before in their lives?

What if his subterfuge worked, but the war lasted so long that his leg healed, and he was forced into battle?

If he died, either in battle, or executed by Clubs, or by his own hand, how would his loved ones find out?

They were questions that had repeated themselves in his mind for weeks. Oh, he had been reassured plenty of times in the last few weeks, and his instructors had attempted to answer his questions, but as he walked to the enemy camp he was feeling much less sure of himself.

On the other hand... what if he was successful? He had left Spades, many months ago, in disgrace. He had been lucky to leave with his life. Now that there were more important matters to worry about, everyone seemed to have already forgotten about Matthew and Francis. And now, he could possibly return to Spades as a hero...

"There's one," Tino whispered, interrupting his thoughts.

"What?" Matthew looked up, quickly spotting the man in a green Clubs uniform like the one Matthew wore. "Oh."

"Just keep walking."

They did, trying not to look at the soldier. As they passed, he actually waved at Matthew, and Matthew returned the gesture briefly before they moved on. He felt like his heart was trying to escape his body, but he was rather proud of the straight face he kept.

They encountered more soldiers the further they walked, and continued to be mostly ignored. Matthew couldn't help but share a smile with Tino. Maybe this insane idea actually had a chance of working.

He spotted an officer, and took a deep breath. He supposed they were going to find out.


	27. Chapter 27

As he lounged back in the mostly-empty bath, Francis daydreamed. Matthew crawled up to him, wearing nothing but a naughty smile. He disappeared from view, ducking under the water, emerging shortly at Francis' side. Water droplets dripped from his hair and down his face. He leaned in to kiss Francis, his mouth as hot and sweet, vaguely tasting of syrup, as it always was.

"Your Majesty?" a nearby voice said, and the image of Matthew vanished.

"Yes?" Francis blinked, focusing on the young man who was now sitting nearby. Obviously a noble, from his neatly curled hair and soft, pale skin. Not to mention the lack of working-class men around lately.

He coyly lowered his eyelashes, and Francis had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I just wanted to thank you for coming to our aid."

Sure he did. "How kind. You're welcome."

The man scooted closer. "I was hoping I could show my gratitude..." He smiled, reaching out to rest a hand on Francis' arm.

"Thanks, but no thanks," Francis said with what he hoped was a polite smile. The man actually looked surprised. "I need to get back to work soon, and my mind is on the war."

"Oh?" He inched closer still, gaze flicking downward. "That's not what it looks like to me."

Francis mentally cursed himself. He would definitely refrain from thinking about Matthew in public baths in the future. "Yes, well, I still have things to do. I hope you understand." He reached out to lightly touch the noble's cheek. "Maybe some other time." A blatant lie, but he didn't want to alienate anyone. Francis hopped out of the bath, quickly snatching up a towel to wrap around himself. He slipped a robe on, picked up his folded pile of clothes, and left the baths behind.

The 'work' he had referred to was returning to his room and getting some rest. He tossed his clothes and robe into the corner and slid naked into the bed. His room wasn't as luxurious as he was used to, but judging by the faces Matthew had frequently made in Diamonds, the people of Spades considered that a good thing.

They really should have admitted to their relationship before Matthew left. It would have made life so much easier. Francis could join Arthur in mourning a lover gone off to war, palace denizens would stop flirting with him...

Francis tried to pick up where he had left off when the noble had interrupted him, attempting to summon Matthew to his bed. But instead, his mind flashed back to the day he had been given the horrible news.

" _I have to tell you something." Matthew took a deep breath, holding Francis' hands. "I didn't want to just stay here, you know? I wish I could be a soldier with them..."_

_Francis didn't dare say otherwise. He simply nodded, heart pounding as he waited to hear what Matthew was planning._

" _Arthur and I came up with something I can do. Tino and I will join the Clubs army as medics; that won't be too physically strenuous. I'll be a spy."_

_Francis could only stare at Matthew, barely able to breathe. No, he wanted to say, that's an insane idea! Sweet Matthew couldn't make a decent spy, they'd kill him._

_He may not have said anything, but Matthew must have seen it in his face. "I know you aren't happy, but it's what I'm going to do. I'm not going to sit around like an invalid, I've had enough of_ /ithati _for one lifetime." When Francis still couldn't say anything, Matthew's face fell. "I expected protests from Alfred. He just accepted it and told me to make them proud. Aren't you going to say anything?"_

_Francis lifted Matthew's hands and kissed the knuckles. "You will make us proud, I'm sure."_

_Matthew smiled and embraced Francis, and Francis gently held him close, even as fear threatened to choke him_.

He hardly saw him in the following weeks, as Matthew's time was spent receiving crash courses in Clubs and basic medicine. Their last night together was spent in bed, so at least they had that. It was, he knew, more than Arthur and Alfred got, with the poor boy being dragged off to war the moment he returned to the palace. Francis wished he still had Matthew in his bed. Not necessarily for sex, he just wanted him there to hold.

If Matthew returned, Francis wouldn't let him go.

* * *

"Is this okay?" Matthew asked. Tino peered closer, watching him squirt water they had boiled earlier onto the soldier's wound.

"Fine," Tino said. "Try and get as much grit out as you can."

"It's weird doing this stuff on real people."

Tino patted his shoulder. "It's probably a good thing he can't understand you."

"What?" the soldier said in his own language, sounding nervous.

"Nothing," Matthew said. So far so good, nobody had accused him of being brand new to the language. "Don't worry, you're okay. James will get you patched up." Matthew was an incredibly common Hearts name, he had seen no need to come up with a pseudonym. Tino, on the other hand...

After finishing with his cleaning, Matthew scooted aside so that Tino could take over. They didn't currently have anyone else to treat, so he waited to see if his help would be needed again.

Matthew was still getting over the fact that the whole plan had actually _worked_. They were there, in a Clubs medic tent, treating injured soldiers! Matthew kept expecting to wake up. Or be dragged outside and filled with arrows. Of course, the fact that the medic tent they were currently staying in had been previously unoccupied might have something to do with it. He wasn't sure where the others were, as he tried not to ask stupid questions that would prove he was an outsider, but apparently they were either at other ends of the camp or too busy fighting.

So far, there wasn't much to do beside their jobs as medics, still waiting to learn anything worth letting Arthur and their own army know about. For now, they would just bide their time, hopefully earning everyone's trust.

"Bandages?" Tino said.

"Right." Matthew grabbed some of the cloth and handed it over.

It wasn't a bad way to be a part of the war, helping instead of harming. Nerve-wracking, but nice. Matthew wasn't looking forward to soldiers having gangrenous limbs sawed off or anything like that, but for the time being it wasn't bad.

They finished patching up the soldier and sending him on his way, and he politely thanked them before leaving. Tino got to work cleaning up.

What they really needed was a nice big group to suffer minor injuries. A big group with interesting plans that they would discuss while being tended to. That would be nice. Or a couple of officers. But preferably more people, so that the blame wouldn't immediately land on Matthew if it came to be known that the enemy was aware of their plans. If they knew they had only spoken around one other person, that might make his guilt a bit obvious.

But their tent was not close to the fighting, and soldiers just trickled in. They were alone for a good twenty minutes before a man staggered in with the help of a friend, arrow protruding from his shoulder. Matthew tried not to cringe at the sight of the worst injury he'd seen yet, knowing there would be worse in store. He took a deep breath and fetched the cloth and water, smiling back at Tino's encouraging look. Maybe these guys knew something good, if he could say something in between the groaning.

* * *

"I'll take ten of them down by noon tomorrow," Mathias predicted, seated against a tree with axe in lap.

"Only ten?" Alfred scoffed. He set his empty stew bowl aside and stood, stretching. "I'll take down twice that many."

The other soldiers were quick to chime in, bragging about how many Clubs soldiers they'd defeat once they joined the battle. By the time they tired of that, they were all resting on mountains of bodies in their minds. But Alfred knew he would top any of his comrades, he had the most at stake! He'd single-handedly take on the entire Clubs army before he let them near Arthur.

They moved on to talking about that special someone they were leaving behind. Or, in the case of many of them, joining the fighting with. Alfred listened but opted not to contribute much despite their prying into his love life. As one of the men started going into great detail describing his girlfriend's anatomy while the others laughed raucously, Alfred excused himself to clean up. They had camped near a small lake that was thankfully unoccupied as Alfred slid down to the water's edge.

He splashed water on his face, then sat up to stare at the moon's reflection on the calm water. It was still pleasantly warm out, and Alfred wondered what day it was. He settled back on his haunches on the muddy bank, wishing he could share the view with Arthur. Or Matthew. Or hell, he'd even take Francis just then. Once the fighting was over and Spades was safe, he'd have to bring everyone to that lake. Or another lake, surely there must be more like it. He felt a wave of nostalgia when he remembered being out on summer nights like that with his family, watching the fireflies that seemed to only live in Hearts. And mosquitoes, couldn't forget the mosquitoes. But a dozen bites or so had never been enough to dissuade him and Matthew from bug-watching.

Spades wetlands were usually home to frogs and crickets. Alfred strained his ears, but couldn't hear any wildlife. So the Clubs army was chasing off even the smallest residents.

Alfred finally stood and wandered back toward the other soldiers, hoping they had moved on to less embarrassing topics. He would just have to change the subject if not, maybe move the topic back to combat. Talking about spilling entrails was much more comfortable than talking about breasts.

Alfred did a double take, catching a glimpse of something among the trees. "Hey..." His eyes widened. "Hey!" He took off running, diving into the attacker just as he fired, crossbow bolt flying into the foliage instead of the soldiers. Ignoring the shouts behind him, Alfred punched the Clubs soldier, yanking out his sword. The other man squirmed away, rolling to his feet and drawing his own weapon just in time to deflect Alfred's blade.

All of the careful training they had drilled into Alfred's head left him; he fought without thinking, on instinct. He wasn't thinking about footwork, or which move countered _that_ move. All he could think of was how that man had crept up on them and tried to kill one of his friends as they simply chatted together.

The other soldier was quickly put on the defensive, snarling as he could only desperately keep Alfred's sword away from his body. But Alfred swung too hard, and the soldier took the opportunity to lash out, slicing his arm. Running on adrenaline, Alfred paid the injury no mind, slapping the sword away when the soldier was overbalanced. Without pause, Alfred drove his sword into the other man.

His eyes widened; he stared at Alfred in wordless shock. Eyes rolling back, he slid off the blade, tumbling to the ground and laying still.

Alfred grinned, looking down at his fallen foe in triumph. He'd done it! His first battle with a real enemy and he had won with barely a scratch! He had saved his comrades!

His smile slowly fell as he continued to stare down at the man. At the crimson – appearing almost black in the dark – that spread out beneath him. He was completely still, glazed eyes half-open. Alfred swallowed, going cold as he stared at the fallen soldier.

He hadn't even realized several soldiers had gathered around him, cheering. Somebody clapped him on the shoulder.

"That was great," someone said. Alfred didn't know whom. "Those Clubs bastards will think twice before ambushing us again!"

"Damn straight," said another. "Al, you okay?"

Alfred blinked, and finally tore his eyes away. "What?" His brain registered what had been said. "Oh. I'm fine."

"You sure? You're bleeding. You should go get that looked at."

"I'm fine."

His captain, Gilbert, elbowed his way closer. "Alfred, look at me." He grabbed Al's chin and tilted his head down slightly to look him in the eye. He sighed. "Come on. Let's get you to the medic."

"I'm fine," Alfred said again, weakly.

"I know." Gilbert took his good arm and led him away while the others watched, looking much less cheerful.

* * *

Matthew grasped the end of the last knot with forceps, tugging it away from the skin and snipping it with the scissors. He discarded the stitch, then inspected the wound. "It's healed nicely," he said with a smile.

"Thanks, Matt." The soldier eyed his healing arm with approval.

"Does it feel all right? Do you need medicine?"

"No, it's fine." He grinned at Matthew. "I could listen to your accent all day."

"Um. Thank you." It was nice to know his grasp of the language was believable, but _really._

"Maybe when the war's over... or tonight...?"

Matthew patted his shoulder. "I have a boyfriend back home."

To his relief, the soldier merely thanked him again and left the medic tent. Chuckling to himself, Matthew moved to the next patient, an unconscious man whose wound needed cleaning and redressing. There was one other soldier patiently waiting his turn, but as long as he seemed patient and not in great pain, Matthew would see to him in a bit.

Tino was currently making a run to the nearest town to request some supplies. And really, he _was_ asking for some things he needed. But of course, he was also delivering information Matthew felt Arthur should know. He was pretty sure by now the Spades army had noticed their wounded soldiers were being captured to eventually be forced to join the Clubs army. How they planned on making them join the other side, Matthew had no idea. What he did know was where they were being held. After some snooping around, Matthew had located the large tent that held the makeshift cages where Spades soldiers were being held. Another tent held the more severely wounded soldiers who needed treatment. Matthew couldn't help but wonder just how much treatment captured enemies were receiving.

Matthew felt awful that Tino was the one delivering his letter to the villagers, but Tino had insisted. He could move faster, and was the more believable choice for making a supply run.

So far nobody with a major injury had shown up while Matthew was on his own. He just hoped his luck continued.

"I don't get you," the patiently waiting soldier commented. "You were injured, yet you remain. Do you like war that much?"

"No," Matthew said, wrapping the fresh bandage on. "I'm here to help my fellow soldiers."

"Really?"

"Look around. Do you see any other medics here?"

"Well, no. Where are they?"

Matthew shook his head. "I don't know. Another end of the camp, I suppose. Wherever they are, I'm needed here." He finished tying off the bandage. "There. So, what can I do for you?" He turned to face the other man, and froze. His blood ran cold as he was confronted by a tall, platinum-haired man, and the only violet eyes he'd ever seen outside a mirror. "Y... Your Majesty..."


	28. Chapter 28

The silence stretched out between them, Matthew gaping in shock and the King waiting patiently. As more time passed, and Matthew wasn't set upon by guards ready to kill him, he slowly relaxed. It dawned on him that King Ivan had one foot bare, boot resting in his lap.

"Um..." Matthew swallowed. He knew that the people of Clubs were rather nervous, even afraid of their rulers, so at least his reaction would not be considered odd. "S-sorry. You startled me." He took a deep breath. "Can I help you? Are you hurt, Your Majesty?"

Ivan gestured to his foot. "I stumbled and hurt my ankle. Isn't that silly?"

"Oh. Um, no, no." Matthew scooted closer. "The ground around here is really uneven." Ivan really was as big as they said, tall and broad. But there was no malice in his violet eyes, and his expression was friendly enough as he watched Matthew.

"I'm sorry," Ivan said out of the blue.

Matthew looked up from the injured appendage in surprise. "For what?"

Ivan shrugged. "My foot."

"You don't have to apologize for your foot." Matthew looked it over, examining the ankle, gently rotating it. Ivan occasionally hissed slightly in pain.

"I don't think I broke it," Ivan said. "That would probably hurt more."

Matthew nodded absently. "Just a bit of a sprain, I think." He reached for the bandages. "I'll wrap it up. You should try and stay off of it for a while."

"Okay." Ivan leaned back on his hands. "Where are you from?"

Matthew froze, eyes widening. He was certain, then, that somebody had to suspect him. And now the King himself had come to investigate, and Matthew was dead... "You mean... originally?" Ivan nodded, and Matthew forced himself to act calm as he wound the bandage around his ankle. "Hearts. A town in the Rose region."

"Why didn't you stay there?"

He had originally thought it would be easier to just stick with half-truths, claim that his father had moved the family for better job opportunities as had actually happened. But that would put Matthew in Clubs from a much younger age, and that wouldn't do. He needed an excuse for his lack of fluency in the language, his lack of knowledge of the kingdom. "I just needed something new, after living in that little town. I wanted to see the world. I'd read about Clubs a lot, and wanted to go there first..."

"There were times when I wished I could do something like that," Ivan mused. "But the heir is kind of stuck."

"O-oh." Matthew carefully wrapped the bandages, sagging slightly. Was Ivan really just curious? But now that he thought about it, wouldn't the King have his own personal medic? "Uh, where would you have gone?"

"Somewhere that wasn't a palace."

Matthew felt a flicker of annoyance. Poor baby, stuck in the palace being given whatever he wanted as he was groomed to rule the kingdom. Life must have been hard.

"Ow."

"Sorry." Matthew loosened the bandage a bit. No need to take it out on Ivan's foot. He reminded himself that the King wasn't really complaining about his life. "There." He clipped the end of the bandage on, settling back and inspecting his work. "How is that?"

"Good. Thank you." Ivan attempted to stand, stumbling slightly until Matthew rose to help him. He winced at the pressure on his own injured limb, but helped Ivan steady himself. "I have things to do, but I suppose I will try and do them sitting for a while." Ivan looked at his boot, pondering, then just continued to hold it.

"Good idea." Matthew let out a sigh as Ivan hobbled toward the entrance to the medic tent. He couldn't believe that had gone as painlessly as it did.

He waited until the King had completely vacated before lowering himself back to the ground, running shaky hands through his hair. "What the hell just happened?"

By the time Tino returned, he had almost convinced himself it hadn't really happened. Matthew was eager to hear about the trip into town, and Tino spoke of the frightened but brave and determined citizens who had taken his message and provided him with medical supplies. Matthew would have to take the next letter to them, no matter how much quicker Tino could do it.

"So there was no trouble while I was gone?" Tino asked as he went over his inventory.

Matthew shook his head. "No trouble. The King stopped by for me to wrap his ankle, but he was nice enough..."

Tino's head jerked up. "What?"

Matthew smiled weakly at him. "He sprained his ankle."

"King Ivan?" Tino stared incredulously. "Some soldier has you fooled."

"I know what he looks like," Matthew said with a mock scowl.

Tino just nodded, setting bottles onto a shelf, and Matthew gave up.

But a couple days later Tino believed him when Ivan returned, limping into the tent with a friendly smile.

"It's him!" Tino gasped, jumping to his feet. He may not believe Matthew's description, but he knew the King when he saw him. He too had been schooled in the important details. "Wh-what is he doing here?"

"I thought I should have this checked on," Ivan said in their language, indicating his foot. Matthew felt a little thrill of shock, and was glad he had never said anything incriminating in his language, assuming Ivan wouldn't understand. But, he supposed, it was obvious that the rulers would be instructed in foreign tongues. Arthur hadn't, but...

Tino wasn't the only one surprised. The injured soldier Tino had been treating seemed to forget all about his wound as he scrambled out of the tent. He may have greeted his King as he ran from him, but Matthew missed it.

Ivan just watched him go with a blank expression, then turned back to Matthew.

"Oh." Matthew licked his lips. "Maybe James should look at it? He's the doctor."

"If you want." Ivan sat down, leg extended. Tino threw a look of panic toward Matthew before settling down beside the King and starting to unwrap his ankle.

"So he is from Hearts, too?" Ivan said, and Matthew's suspicions again rose that the Clubs soldiers were onto him.

"Yes." Matthew smiled, trying to ignore his pounding heart. "He's treated me since I was little."

"Oh yes? That's nice." Ivan smiled at Tino. "Off with your head," he said cheerfully, then laughed when Matthew gaped at him. "I'm kidding. It's funny, he can't understand us."

"O-oh..." They didn't have to execute Matthew. He was going to have a heart attack. "Yes, hilarious."

There really wasn't much for Tino to do. He looked the ankle over, and wrapped it back up. It wasn't like there was a wound that needed tending to. Matthew was once again certain that Ivan was simply investigating, that the other soldiers suspected them.

Or maybe, Matthew thought as he looked in the direction of the fled soldier, he just appreciated somebody who didn't run from him.

* * *

Arthur stared, lost in thought, occasionally running his fingers over the blue fabric. He rested his hand on the cool metal mail. He was so lost in his own little world he didn't even notice somebody approach until he spoke up.

"Going somewhere?" Yao asked.

Arthur shook himself, turning to face Yao's frown. "No."

"Get away from that." Yao picked up the soldier uniform. "Don't even think about it."

"I wasn't..."

Yao just looked at him for a long minute, then sighed. "Royals don't belong on the battlefield," he said to himself. "I don't know what Clubs is thinking, letting _both_ of them fight."

"I feel like I'm not doing a damn thing," Arthur muttered, turning away.

Yao hurried around until they were facing each other again. "You have meetings about the war all the time! Your suggestions at today's were really good."

"I was just telling them what I knew they wanted to hear. They already know their plans and strategies. If I told them anything that went against their wishes, they'd just nudge me in the right direction. I'm not doing anything." Arthur made a face. "Just sitting in here waiting for my people to send the enemy away and save me. I'm like a fairytale princess."

"Of course you aren't," Yao said, patting his arm. "You'd look awful in a dress."

Arthur's lips curved slightly. "Probably so."

"Now I'm just going to go hide this." Yao turned to leave, uniform bundled in his arms.

Arthur rolled his eyes, watching him go. "You know, if I really wanted to join the fighting, there's plenty of other uniforms I could find. Or I could just announce I'm going. I'm still the Queen." Yao was looking vaguely horrified. "I'm not going to!"

"Okay." Yao finally smiled. "Are you hungry?" Always the mother hen.

"No."

"All right." Yao turned as if ready to leave again, but hesitated. "Let me know if you need anything."

Arthur wasn't entirely sure what Yao meant, but he had a feeling it wasn't food. "I will."

Yao nodded, still holding the uniform, and left Arthur alone.

* * *

The Clubs soldier must have learned to swordfight in a fancy noble fencing class. His footwork was precise while Alfred couldn't care less what his feet were up to and let them work on instinct. The soldier lunged, which Alfred easily dodged, and he was left wide open. Alfred ran his sword through the soldier's shoulder, putting his sword arm out of commission. Then he shoved the other man away, hoping he'd be quickly taken back to camp and given treatment rather than left to fester and die on the battlefield. He just had to hope his acts of mercy weren't dooming anyone to much slower deaths.

The more trained soldiers were taking the brunt of the attack, while the guards and newer soldiers protected the flanks.

Another enemy soldier was on him in an instant, and he was considerably better than his comrade. Alfred found himself being driven backward. But before he had time to find out who the better swordsman really was, the soldier stiffened and fell to the ground, courtesy of a young Spades soldier behind him. The boy – he couldn't have been much older than sixteen – and Alfred exchanged a brief nod before returning their full attention to the battle.

An officer barked at everyone for the infantry to fall back, and as one the soldiers turned and retreated, leaving the cavalry to take care of the rest of the battle. Of course, retreating was one of the most dangerous moves, and arrows occasionally rained down on them as Clubs tried to thin the herd a bit more as the soldiers moved out of the way. They too were letting their cavalry take charge, the real meat of the battle.

The young soldier who had helped Alfred went down with a cry. Alfred froze, looking down at him. The boy was still alive, so Alfred hauled him to his feet, ignoring pained protests. "Come on. Let's get back to camp."

The soldier didn't say anything. Alfred broke off part of the arrow to keep it from catching on anything, then hauled him along, heading back toward camp. More arrows landed near them, but no more found any living targets. Eventually, the arrows stopped.

They made their way back to camp, and Alfred delivered the soldier to the medic tent. He was no expert on anatomy and wasn't sure if the injury was fatal or not; hopefully not.

"Thanks," the pale, wide-eyed boy said as a medic began inspecting the wound.

Alfred nodded. "Thanks for the help."

As he returned to the tent his company used as their headquarters, the adrenaline of the battle faded, leaving Alfred feeling weary, and especially shaken. He wondered if he'd ever get used to it, like the experienced soldiers seemed to be. Or maybe they were just better at hiding it.

"You know what I wish?" a soldier was saying as Alfred walked in. Assorted soldiers rested on their cots and mats, and Gilbert sat in the corner with some papers. Alfred rather liked working under Gilbert. Insane training regiments aside, he was a good commanding officer. And he didn't give Alfred preferential treatment. Alfred occasionally heard other soldiers whispering among themselves about keeping Alfred safe, returning him to Arthur in one piece. He didn't like that, he was a hero but not _better_ than everyone else! Arthur wouldn't be more sad than any other soldier's loved ones if he didn't return just because he was the Queen. And Gilbert did not take part in any of that sort of thing, Alfred was just one of his soldiers.

"What?" said another.

"That it was like in the old days, and we had a big fortified castle instead of a fancy palace."

Alfred gave a snort of laughter. "You wish this were a siege, then?"

The soldier nodded enthusiastically. "We'd still be inside, with real food and beds, our loved ones would be there, we wouldn't be doing as much fighting... We'd just have to hurl some arrows and boiling oil down on the enemy and send them on their way."

"Yeah, while they're battering our walls down," said another.

"Hence the big fortified walls and moat!"

Alfred settled down on his cot, stripping off some of his uniform until he was comfortable. He tiredly raked a hand through his grimy hair as he pictured it. Going to bed with Arthur every night, and tossing stuff down on the enemy in the morning didn't sound like a bad way to do battle, really.

"How'd everything go?" Gilbert asked, sounding distracted as he poured over his papers.

"So far so good." Alfred inspected one of his boots, cringed and set it aside. They needed more fresh boots.

"The rest of us have been summoned for tomorrow."

"Oh yeah?" Alfred said, but Gilbert was no longer paying attention to him. "What is it?" Alfred asked at the thoughtful 'hmm' sounds Gilbert was making as he read a letter. "Good news?" The other nearby soldiers paused to look at Gilbert and chime in with their curiosity.

Gilbert held the letter up. "Some information from the Clubs army."

Alfred's breath caught. Mattie? Was that info from Matt? He hurried closer. "Good news?" he repeated. Something useful? The thought of Matthew helping them win the war brought a smile to his face.

"We know where our captured men are being held." Gilbert strode over to the map of the Clubs camp, pointing to a large tent. "There."

Alfred stared down at the map, while the men around him buzzed with excitement. He absently scratched at the healing cut on his arm as the wheels in his head turned.

"Do we know what's become of them?" a soldier asked.

Gilbert nodded. "It's as we suspected. Clubs is looking to increase their army in their quest to take over the four kingdoms."

"Then they'll die," said another. "I know I would before I joined with the enemy."

"Then someone will have to rescue them, first." Alfred grinned at them, then swept out of the tent.


	29. Chapter 29

Matthew held his breath as he limped into the tent, heart pounding. He knew he probably shouldn't be worried. He was still just a medic checking out wounded soldiers, even if they _were_ 'enemy' soldiers. But he was nervous, all the same.

He grimaced as the stench of death hit his nostrils, and held his lamp up with a shaking hand.. None of the soldiers laying on the cots and ground were moving, and the air was thick with rot and blood. He felt sick to his stomach, and not just from the smell. Was this how they treated the wounded and dying?

Clearly nobody there needed to be treated. With a shiver, Matthew turned, eager to return to his own tent. But something caught his eye, something glinting back at him as his lamplight caught it. He moved closer to the table in the corner that held... trinkets, knicknacks, some coins. Frowning, Matthew rifled through them.

It took a long moment before it hit him with sick clarity. They had been taken from the pockets of dying men. Matthew decided it was definitely time to get out of there. He headed back through the entrance, eager to put that tent behind him.

But he froze at the sound of a soft groan from somewhere within. Shuddering, Matthew returned inside, hunting around for the still-living soldier. "Hello?"

Another groan answered him, and Matthew located the man, stifling a cry at his appearance. His own limbs screamed in sympathetic pain at the mangled mess the soldier's were. The Clubs army didn't torture their captives... his opponent must have wielded a club or some other blunt weapon in battle. Matthew could tell at a glance the soldier would have to lose his limbs to have a chance for survival, at the very least. His ribs seemed broken, too.

Was there any point? What kind of life would that be?

"I can... I can get a doctor," Matthew said in a hushed voice. "This is beyond my skill."

"Please..." the soldier said, voice an agonized groan. "Help me."

"I can get a doctor," Matthew repeated.

"No."

Matthew frowned, confused. "Then what...?" Oh. Oh no... Matthew took a ragged breath as he stared down at the suffering man. Could he do that? He had seen wounded soldiers die while Tino struggled to save them. Tino, he knew, would end someone's life if it spared them suffering, though the situation had not risen yet. Matthew set his lantern aside and drew his short sword with a shaking hand. He could do it, too. It would be a mercy. He knelt down beside the soldier, who looked more at ease already with death looming closer.

Matthew gulped, staring down at him. He drew the sword back to strike, but hesitated. He gently lowered the blade and rested it against his throat, while the soldier waited, eyes closed. Matthew grit his teeth, mentally berating himself for freezing and prolonging his suffering. He could do this. Just a flick of the wrist, and the man would be dead in a quick splash of blood.

Matthew stumbled away, shoving his sword back into its sheath. The soldier moaned, shivering in pain. Wracked with guilt, Matthew snatched up his lantern and turned again to flee. He couldn't do it.

He only made it a few paces outside the tent before he froze, eyes widening. "Oh." He quickly returned to the soldier's side, yanking the small bottle out from where he always kept it concealed. "Drink this." He pulled the top off and held the bottle to his lips. The soldier pressed his lips together and turned away, but Matthew nudged the bottle close again. "It's poison."

The soldier's eyes snapped open. "Poison?" he rasped.

Matthew nodded. "If you drink this you'll die, I promise. Well... I don't know for a fact, but that's what I was told. And the one who gave it to me wouldn't have lied about that."

The soldier stared up at him for a long moment, then parted his lips and Matthew tipped the liquid in. Breathing heavily, Matthew settled back to wait, tucking the empty bottle away.

It didn't take long. The soldier grimaced, teeth clenched together. He shuddered, panting, then started to convulse. And then he went still, and that was it. Matthew pressed his fingers against the pulse in his throat, but found nothing. He was finally at peace.

Matthew stood back up, fingering the empty bottle in his pocket. So much for his own quick death. The Clubs army didn't torture its captives, but what about captured spies? "I guess I'll find out..." Feeling numb, he finally left the tent behind, returning to his regular medic tent. It was occupied by Tino and a pair of wounded soldiers – one was sleeping, the other being tended to. Matthew curled up in the corner opposite them.

"Is everything okay?" Tino said without looking up from his work. The soldier he was tending to didn't react, obviously unfamiliar with their language as the majority of Clubs soldiers were.

"I killed a man," Matthew said, staring at a row of bottles lined on a shelf. A flickering candle lit them up like colorful lamps.

Tino finally looked over at Matthew, shocked. He opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind and shook himself. "Oh, that's... oh..."

"He asked me to. He couldn't have been saved."

Tino scooted closer to Matthew and put an arm around him. "Well that's good, then. We don't want anyone to suffer."

Matthew smiled wanly. "I know." He tried pushing the incident aside, telling himself that he had done a good thing. Alfred was facing kill-or-be-killed battles every day to protect his home, Matthew could handle one mercy kill. "How have you fared?" Tino didn't particularly like Matthew to leave him without a translator.

"Oh, fine. Your friend stopped by," Tino returned to the soldier's side to resume work.

"Which friend?" Matthew frowned to himself. None of his friends had better be coming to find him... He could just picture Francis disguising himself and coming to visit Matthew. If that were the case, he'd have to ship the idiot back to Diamonds.

"The King."

For one horrified second, Matthew thought he _was_ talking about Francis. But then it dawned on him. "Oh." Matthew shook his head, brow furrowing. Why was _he_ coming back? His ankle should be fine.

"Said he thinks he's coming down with a cold, so I gave him some herbs." Tino chuckled. "He's either a hypochondriac, or lonely."

Matthew shot him a warning look, even as he mentally laughed. They really should not be saying anything about the King; it was anybody's guess who nearby might understand them. Tino gave an apologetic shrug, and Matthew scooted closer to assist him, bandages and ointment ready to go.

* * *

"Sorry, fellow..." Feeling the usual twinge of guilt at defiling the dead, Alfred began stripping off the soldier's uniform. Every Clubs soldier he could find whose clothing hadn't been completely ruined with blood was divested of it. In an attempt to not feel like a complete monster, he always went through their pockets and returned anything he found to the bodies, tucking them into their underwear. "I need this more than you do."

That particular soldier only had a handful of sweets in his pocket. Smiling to himself, Alfred returned the candy to its owner. Candy wasn't bad. The letter he had found earlier had been brutal – even if he hadn't been able to understand it – leaving Alfred wondering if the soldier carrying it had been the writer or recipient. Not that it made things any easier either way.

"How many do we have?" asked a soldier, Alexander, wrinkling his nose as he examined the newly acquired uniform.

"Six," Alfred said. "I don't know how many captives they're holding. I don't want to have to leave anybody..."

"Well, don't blame us. It's not always easy in the heat of battle to remember not to bloody their uniforms."

Alfred smiled slightly. "Speaking of heat..." He wiped his forehead. He was rather glad he wasn't being sent into battle that day, what a scorcher.

"Summer is definitely upon us," Alex said.

Alfred nodded. "I guess it is. For some reason I was thinking it was still spring." The trip to and from Diamonds had especially thrown his time sense off. He hated travel. "Summer..." He blinked, looking up at the other soldiers. "Hey. Does anyone know how much longer until the Hearts Festival of Cups?"

The others exchanged looks, shrugging. One of them, Robert, Alfred was pretty sure he had a parent from Hearts. He scratched his head, looking thoughtful. "I'm afraid I lost track of time. I'm not entirely sure when that was."

"Was?" Alfred speared him with a look. "Was? We missed it?"

Robert nodded, and the other soldiers laughed.

"Were you planning on celebrating?" one asked. "I think we've got more important things to worry about than another kingdom's holiday. No offense, but you haven't even lived there in a long time, right?"

"I don't care about the festival itself," Alfred muttered. "That's when we were born. I missed our birthday! We turned eighteen and I didn't even know it..."

The amused soldiers immediately became sympathetic, crowding closer to Alfred and offering congratulations. Alfred smiled at them, waving off their concern. "Thanks. It's okay, we'll do something when the war's over. No big deal." But he couldn't help but feel disappointed. At least last year's birthday had been amazing.

"All right," Alfred said, shooing the soldiers away. "Keep looking for bodies to borrow uniforms from." Borrow sounded nicer, even if it was unlikely they would be returning them. "I still think the second one we found fits me best... but I know more than five of our men are being held prisoner."

"I found one!" A soldier called from a distance. "Arrow in the head, hardly anything got on his uniform!"

"Good!"

Alfred didn't return to camp until they had collected several more uniforms. As he eagerly lay them out, along with a sewing kit should a uniform need to be quickly altered to fit one of the captives, Gilbert approached him, frowning.

"I wish you weren't doing this alone," he said, watching Alfred fold the uniforms up.

"You don't have to wish anything," Alfred said. "You can order me not to."

"I know," Gilbert muttered. "But I know as well as you do that one man will be far more likely to succeed. Although... it doesn't have to be you..."

Alfred finally looked up at him with a grin and thumb's up. "Sure it does!" He'd always liked that Gilbert didn't treat him differently because of Arthur. He prayed that Gilbert didn't decide to start now.

Gilbert snorted. "Wow. How do I argue with that?"

"You don't." Alfred eyed the stack of clothing, wondering exactly where he was going to conceal all of that as he sneaked into the enemy camp.

"I think your smart ass should give me some pushups before you continue..."

Alfred groaned. "Yes, sir."


	30. Chapter 30

Every look felt suspicious, every unrecognizable word accusatory. Alfred firmly told himself over and over that he was just being paranoid, and continued to walk through the enemy camp, not letting any of his worry show. Fortunately, he already had decent training as an actor. As a beggar, he had a smile for everyone, however they treated him. Though back then, it had sometimes been beneficial to let his worry show.

His main concern was language. He had learned a few basic words, so at least he could quickly greet soldiers he passed; but if anyone stopped him to chat he would be doomed. If someone stopped him to go through the large bag on his back and found a bunch of tightly packed uniforms... well, he had learned the word for 'laundry', so hopefully that would work.

Nobody wore their helmet in the camp, but they did have hats to keep the sun off, and Alfred had one pulled down low. It was getting late, though, sun about to set, and he hoped that didn't look too suspicious. It was hard to tell when his paranoid brain translated every glance as distrustful.

Alfred's heart pounded nervously, even as he breathed a sigh of relief when he caught sight of the tent he was looking for. He had made it! Now he just had to actually free the prisoners and escape with them. No problem...

Thankfully there were no guards posted outside. But Alfred still paused outside the entrance, glancing around and making sure nobody was actively watching him. Then he reminded himself that stopping and looking around would seem more suspicious, and he hurried inside.

Alfred could hardly believe his luck. Only one guard! They must feel pretty confident about watching a group of unarmed men in cages. He peered around the tent, noting the number of prisoners sitting around in their cages. There were more than he had expected... Did he have enough uniforms? Hopefully. Alfred wasn't sure how he would rescue them without.

The guard looked his way and stood, saying something that sounded inquisitive. Alfred just smiled at him, fingering the handle of a dagger he had tucked away. He wondered if he could just knock the man out, but dismissed the idea. As much as he would prefer leaving alive a soldier who was just doing his job, he was a witness.

Whatever he was saying grew sharper. Alfred had to get rid of him quickly before he got too loud and summoned help. Alfred took a deep breath, glancing at the men whose lives were depending on him, then rushed forward and rammed the dagger into the soldier's throat. With a horrific gurgling sound, the man went down, collapsing in a rapidly growing puddle of blood. That had almost been too easy...

Alfred knelt down beside the dead man, averting his eyes as he rummaged through his clothes. He felt momentary panic that maybe the guard wasn't the one who held onto the keys, but then his fingers ran over a metal ring. Alfred yanked it out and hurried over to the first of the cages.

"Who's there?" one of the soldiers inside said in a low voice.

"Alfred." There weren't many keys on the ring; he found the correct one after only two tries. "I have Clubs uniforms in my bag. Probably a little wrinkled, but they'll work. Find one that fits you..."

"We're just walking out of here, huh?" A soldier clapped Alfred on the shoulder as they passed by.

"Yeah, pretty much." Alfred dropped his bag to the ground and yanked it open. The soldiers gathered around, murmuring their gratitude as they started rummaging through the uniforms, looking for one that might somewhat fit. Leaving them to their task, Alfred moved on to the next cages, until he had freed all of the prisoners.

"I'm not surprised it's you," one of the soldiers said as he hurried out, grinning.

"Really?" Alfred didn't even recognize him. But he felt his heart warm as he watched the former prisoners hurry from their cages. They passed the uniforms around, selecting ones that fit them best.

Until, suddenly, there weren't any more. Alfred's heart nearly stopped when he realized there were five soldiers left without disguises. "I..." Shit. "I guess I underestimated how many of you there were..."

"It's okay," a soldier said. Some of those who had acquired uniforms tried offering them to those who hadn't, but they were refused.

"It's not. I'm taking all of you." Alfred looked around. There had to be some way to sneak the other prisoners out. Their Spades and Diamonds uniforms were too battered, too different, they would definitely be noticed. As would men traipsing around in blankets, or their underwear. There was never a time at night when everybody was asleep; the camp seemed busy at all hours. They'd be noticed for sure if anything were amiss. Alfred grit his teeth. "There must be some way to get all of you..." He looked around the tent in frustration. "Maybe we could pose as soldiers moving the prisoners...?"

"Moving us where?" one of the remaining soldiers asked. "Someone would stop you. Someone would notice you, question you."

"I can't leave anyone!" Alfred folded his arms like a stubborn child, and the others shushed him. "I'm not leaving you."

"It's okay," another soldier said, giving Alfred a wan smile. "We don't have time to come up with a new plan. Get going, get them to safety. The longer you wait..."

And to Alfred's shock, they returned to the cage.

"You can't be serious..." Alfred practically scowled at them. There had to be a hundred, a thousand ways he could get them out! He just needed to think.

"Hurry, Al. Get them out. Lock the door here."

Alfred glanced back at the rescued prisoners, who had finished changing. He bit his lip, hating the thought of just leaving some of them behind. "I'll come back for you."

"Al, you shouldn't-"

"I'll come back for you," Alfred repeated, voice firm. He shoved the key back into the lock and twisted it with a sickening click. "I'm not leaving anybody here. I'll be back."

"Can you do one thing for us?" The soldier stepped closer to the bars, holding a hand out.

"Anything." Alfred nodded, gripping his hand. "What is it?"

"Leave a weapon for us."

That he could do. Alfred retreated to the fallen guard, drawing a dagger from his belt. He could always leave them his, too, but he could really use a weapon himself. "Give me a moment, I'll have to find enough to arm everyone so you can-"

"It's not for us to defend ourselves." The soldier stared at Alfred, eyes serious. "We're tired and weak, we wouldn't be able to fight back."

"Then what...?" Alfred's eyes narrowed, grip tightening around the dagger's handle. "You want a way to end it. I told you, I'll come back for you."

"Only as a last resort," the soldier assured him. "If something happens, and you don't return in time..."

Alfred opened his mouth to protest, but changed his mind. Something could always happen. The Clubs soldiers could decide to take away the remaining prisoners once they discovered what happened. Alfred could be detained, or killed, before he could rescue them. The soldiers deserved a way out if their only other option was to remain prisoners. He wordlessly handed the dagger over, and the soldier smiled.

"Thanks."

"I'll come back as soon as I can."

He could tell from their expressions that they didn't believe that.

"Okay," said one of the soldiers, waiting by the entrance. "Now how do we all get out undetected?"

"Slip out one at a time?" Alfred said, scratching his head. "It's dark, and there isn't anybody outside keeping an eye on the place. As long as we space it out, hopefully the Clubs soldiers outside won't stick around long enough to see too many of us walk out of here..."

The former prisoners exchanged a glance, shrugging. "What choice do we have?"

"If we are detected..." Alfred looked around at them. "Uh. Run for it?"

"Well, no point in hanging around in here much longer." And the soldier by the entrance slipped out, striding confidently like he belonged there. The rest of them held their breath, waiting for a cry of alarm.

Nothing happened outside, and as one they sagged in relief.

One by one, the soldiers walked out of the tent. All the while, Alfred watched those that remained in their cage, expressions unreadable, until finally only he remained.

"Get going," one of the remaining prisoners said. He had a thick accent, his uniform the orange of Diamonds. "It would be silly for you to be captured with us.

"I'll come back," Alfred said again, and at their urging, he too slipped out of the tent.

Alfred strolled back through the camp, feeling slightly less suspicious now that his bag was no longer packed tight with stolen uniforms. He kept waiting for some sort of commotion regarding the escaped prisoners, but it never came.

He didn't relax until he reached the edge of the Clubs camp, gradually meeting up with the others. There weren't many enemies around, but still they played it safe, laughing together like friends but not speaking their language too loudly. The number of Clubs soldiers became fewer and fewer until they had left enemy territory behind.

And then they were in their own camp, and their laughter became real. Other soldiers hurried close to hug the former prisoners, and Alfred. A couple pairs of soldiers embraced and kissed.

As everyone cheered for Alfred, he still didn't feel celebratory. Not until he completely finished the job.

* * *

"Just a few more," Tino said to himself, tossing the stitch aside.

"You're fine," Matthew said. "Doesn't hurt. This is nowhere near as bad as getting them put in..." And really, any excuse to sit around in his shorts was a welcome one in the summer heat. Spades wasn't as warm as Hearts, but they still had some toasty summers.

"Okay." Tino snipped another one. "How are our supplies doing?"

"Good, though we could use some more bandages soon." In other words, he didn't need to deliver any messages right away, but in the near future. He'd heard some rumors that wouldn't be very useful until he confirmed them. The two of them were alone in the tent for the time being, but they never assumed it was safe to speak openly. "I'll go into town next time we need some."

"Really?" Tino looked up in surprise.

Matthew nodded. "Really! That's my job. Since I'm the assistant and all... I can walk better now."

"All right, all right. If you insist."

"I do." Matthew fell silent as Tino resumed his work. The wounds still, thankfully, looked nasty. But they were healing. Which wasn't good, he'd have to come up with another excuse to avoid fighting soon... Hopefully Ivan liked having Matthew around, and everyone else liked having him as a medic, and nobody would think to ask.

"Oh! Did I come at a bad time?" As if briefly thinking about him had summoned him, Ivan stood in the doorway, cheeks covered in a dusting of pink.

Matthew looked down at Tino, wondering what Ivan _thought_ they were doing to make him blush. "He's just taking out my stitches. Please come in, Your Majesty." Ivan visited almost every day now, and had dropped the excuses. He no longer bothered trying to hide the fact that he just plain liked talking to Matthew, somebody who didn't cringe in terror whenever he walked by.

"That must have hurt." Ivan settled down on the ground nearby.

"Yeah..." To be honest, the more people who saw Matthew's war wound, the better. At the very least, it made going through acquiring it worth it. If nobody saw it, he may as well just have faked a limp...

Ivan peered closer, reaching out to poke at one of the healing scars. Tino glanced at him, and Ivan backed off. "Sorry."

No matter how nice Ivan was, Matthew _still_ couldn't help but wonder sometimes if he suspected something, from his actions... Well, if he did, hopefully prodding the scar convinced him otherwise.

"So how is everything, Your Majesty?" Matthew said, watching Tino finish up.

"All right." Ivan shrugged slightly. "The usual. It's funny... I always wanted to get out of the palace, and now that I'm out and seeing the world, I want to go home."

Matthew glanced at him, mouth opening slightly. But he changed his mind and closed it.

"What?" Ivan said.

Matthew shook his head. "Nothing."

"You were going to say something." Ivan nudged him. "What?"

Matthew had to laugh at his childlike curiosity. "Why don't you go home, if that's what you want?"

"She wants to be here." Ivan looked away, smile fading. "Don't get me wrong, I like the end result."

"Conquering the other kingdoms?" he asked without thinking. Fortunately, Ivan did not react with offense or suspicion.

"Well, when you put it that way..." Ivan shook his head. "It would be nice if the kingdoms would join us of their own free will. But they won't. But she says that after it's over, everyone will get used to it, and they'll like me-us."

Matthew just stared at him. He knew he should hate Ivan... but mostly he felt sorry for the naive, annoyingly likable bastard. He wasn't sure how to say that, with a less scary, war-mongering wife, more people _would_ like him already.

"She used to be a soldier," Ivan said, staring up at the tent ceiling.

"The Queen?" Matthew blinked, surprised. "But she's..." She was the Queen now, and could fight if she wanted to, but otherwise women didn't become soldiers.

"She tricked them." Ivan giggled. "When she was young, she pretended to be a boy and joined the army."

"People actually _do_ that?" It was the sort of thing that happened in stories!

"She did, wanting to be just like her father. She wasn't caught for a few years. And when she was, my parents were so impressed they decided to betroth her to me. We married soon after that."

"She really is a warrior Queen..." No wonder she ruled by the sword; it was all she knew. Wait... "You were married soon after meeting? At that age, isn't the heir usually already betrothed?"

Ivan nodded, wrapping his arms around his knees. "I was."

"Oh."

"She mysteriously vanished soon after my parents met Elizabeta."

"Ohh..."

"Then my parents died after I was married."

Matthew swallowed. "Was that also mysterious?"

Ivan shook his head. "Natural causes." His amused smile seemed to say that he knew exactly what Matthew was suspecting. "We had nothing to do with it."

Tino finished bandaging Matthew up and stood. "How's that?"

"Oh, fine." Matthew grabbed his walking stick and levered himself upright.

"The bandages aren't really necessary, but better to still keep dirt out."

"Yeah. But it's getting much better." Matthew grinned at Ivan. At least Ivan understood their language and didn't require translation. The King grinned back.

"Your Majesty?" A terrified-looking soldier inched into the tent.

"Yes?" Ivan smiled politely at him, but the soldier just cringed.

"There's been an... incident."

"What sort of incident?"

The man visibly gulped. "Most of the prisoners have escaped. Presumably with help, the guard was murdered."

Matthew kept his expression neutral. He couldn't help but feel guilty that his information had gotten a man killed, but... at least the prisoners were freed. Or most of them were? Better than nothing, still.

"Did they?" Ivan said casually.

"Er..." The quivering soldier looked baffled at the lack of response. "Y-yes, Your Majesty. Um, the Queen has suggested setting a trap for whoever's rescuing them. Moving the remaining prisoners to another tent, and having several of our men waiting for him instead."

Ivan waved a dismissive hand. "Don't bother, it isn't worth _that_ much effort. Just double the number of guards."

The man gaped. "B-but... Your Majesty, you only had one guard to begin with. Are you saying we should increase security with... two guards?"

"That's right." Ivan smiled, and the soldier cringed.

"Yes, Your Majesty!" He fled, and Ivan sagged, watching him go.

"I've never done anything to them," he said, turning back to Matthew, sounding defensive.

"I know," Matthew said. "If I thought you had, I'd be scared of you, too."

Ivan's expression brightened. "Thank you, Matvey."

Matthew blinked. He recognized the name as a diminutive of his in the Clubs language – Ivan had never called him that before. Such gratitude, over simply being told he wasn't scary. The poor thing really did just want a friend... "You're welcome, Ivan."


	31. Chapter 31

Alfred set aside his empty bowl, grimacing. "I think the only way breakfast could've been worse is if Arthur were cooking. His Majesty, I mean."

The soldier to his right, Robert, chuckled. "The Queen _cooks_?"

"No," Alfred said quickly. "That's the problem."

The men gathered around him laughed, one clapping Alfred on the shoulder. Smiling, Alfred stood, waving at the soldiers passing by who bid him good morning.

His ever increasing popularity would be a lot more satisfying if he had actually finished his last mission. Alfred couldn't look around at all the faces without picturing the five that weren't there.

As if sensing his mood, another soldier – a Diamonds man, Alfred could never keep their foreign names straight, but he recalled that it was something like Laurent – looked worried. "Are you still planning on going back?" The other soldiers looked their way, also vocalizing their concern.

"Yes, of course," Alfred said, feeling awkward in the face of all of those... almost _accusing_ eyes.. Normally he didn't mind being the center of attention.

"You got most of them," Mathias said from where he was helping himself to seconds. "It's too risky to go back. You took them by surprise the first time; it won't be that easy again."

Robert nodded his agreement. "It will be a trap."

Alfred shook his head. "It'll be okay. They won't be expecting me."

"Of course they will!"

"No they won't." As several others opened their mouths to protest, Alfred winked. "I know that they'll be expecting me, and waiting, and I'd have to be an idiot to go back. And they know that I know that. So they _won't_ be expecting me, since they won't think I'm that stupid."

"But you are that stupid, so you'll go, and they won't expect it?" Mathias said with a smirk.

"Pretty much..."

"Alfred!" A young soldier edged closer, biting his lip. "Don't go."

Another nodded. "Don't..."

"I'm going," Alfred said, wishing they'd just accept it. "I have to rescue them. Just like I'd rescue any of you!" He frowned. "Why are you so upset? My life isn't worth more than five men."

"Al..." Mathias said, frowning right back.

"I'll be fine! I bet it won't even be a trap."

"So why you?" Robert said. "Huh? Why does it have to be you that goes?"

Alfred winked again, small smile returning. "In case it _is_ a trap..."

* * *

His preparation took several days. Not just collecting more uniforms, but working on his own appearance, as well. And when he walked out of his company's tent, greeting Mathias, his fellow guard and soldier blinked in surprise.

"Er... Al?" He peered closer. "Yeah. Al. Man, I almost didn't recognize you!" Mathias laughed.

"That's the idea." Alfred ran a hand through his newly brown hair. It would only last a few days before fading.

"Stopped shaving, too. You do know that the blond facial hair kind of gives it away?"

Alfred shrugged. He'd tried to find a way around that, but didn't really want to dye his whole face. "It'll be dark out..."

"And how can you _see_?"

"I'm not completely blind without my glasses!" Alfred protested. "Things are just fuzzy. I'll be fine."

Mathias shook his head. "I don't understand. Does it really matter what you look like?"

"Yeah. Just never mind." Having an identical twin infiltrating the enemy did have its drawbacks. If Alfred succeeded in rescuing the rest of the prisoners, but ended up inadvertently putting Mattie in danger... Well, his 'disguise' wasn't perfect, but hopefully it was enough that nobody in the Clubs army would look at him and think 'Hey, he looks familiar...'

"If you say so, man." Mathias clapped him on the back. He knew about Matthew's role in the war, but likely wasn't thinking about that. Alfred wasn't about to remind anyone, he felt paranoid about vocalizing it lest unfriendly ears overhear.

"Alfred! Is that you, then?" A soldier was jogging toward them, and Alfred braced himself for another round of protests. The young man, though, was just waving a small package. "Mail for you."

"Someone sent me something?" Alfred reached out to accept the paper wrapped bundle.

"Anything for me?" Mathias asked hopefully, but the other soldier shook his head. "Aw..."

"Thanks." Alfred smiled at them, and wandered back into the tent. He sat on his mat and retrieved his glasses, pushing them back on. He tore open the bundle, revealing a piece of paper, and a small scrap of paper with it.

The letter was from Arthur, letting Alfred know how much he missed him and couldn't wait to see him again. Alfred smiled as he slowly read it, hearing Arthur's voice in his head. He had been trying not to think about his lover, actually. It made things easier to not dwell on what he was missing. But the simple words of love warmed his heart. The letter was closed with an "I love you", and Alfred mouthed the words back.

The scrap of paper included with it was more puzzling. It was stained, words faded to the point of illegibility, with additional, clearer writing on top of them. It took him a moment to realize it was a coded message that had been doused in chemicals, and he grinned. It must have been taken from a note of Matt's! The only visible text, which must have come from the end of one of his letters, read "and if you see Al, tell him happy birthday for me."

Alfred looked over both notes several times, eyes starting to burn. "Thanks, guys..."

* * *

Matthew hated the frightened looks he was receiving. As he limped through town – his leg _did_ feel better, but he still exaggerated for show, as long as the wound still looked believably bad – women hurried back into their homes, or held their children protectively close. He had no way of letting them know he was one of them, so he just endured as he looked for the store Tino used for supplies.

As Matthew walked into the small store, lined with herbs and supplies, he felt a wave of nostalgia for home, smiling to himself. It reminded him of the apothecary Alfred frequented almost daily for so long. Granted, he himself hadn't visited often, but he still remembered. The owner must miss Alfred.

The woman behind the counter eyed him warily, taking a step backward. "Hello," she said hesitantly in the Clubs language.

Matthew smiled at her. "Hello there," he said in their language, and she blinked at his lack of a Clubs accent. "James told me this is where he's been getting our medical supplies. I have a list of things we need."

"O-oh." She stepped closer to the counter, looking more confident. "You must be the assistant he mentioned."

"That's right," Matthew said with a nod. "It's usually me taking inventory, so I'm the one who's been writing the lists for him."

"I see." She held a hand out, and Matthew handed her the list. As usual, it really was a list of what they needed. And underneath, it explained everything Ivan had told him about the Queen. Matthew wasn't sure what they would use that information for, but hopefully somebody would find it interesting. The woman examined the list. "We don't have much comfrey left."

"Okay." While she moved around the store, fetching the items on the list, Matthew found his gaze drawn to the jar of sweets on the counter. He'd been living on soldier rations for far too long...

At least the townspeople didn't seem to have been harmed. They were terrified, and being forced to serve the soldiers' whims, but it could have been a lot worse. For one thing, they could have been forced to serve the soldiers' _other_ whims. Matthew shuddered at the thought.

He wished he could ask for details about what the Spades army was up to, aside from what he overheard in the medic tent. But that would seem like an odd thing for a Clubs man to wonder, and it was important to stay in character. Part of Matthew almost wish he would be recognized. If only a soldier would say 'Hey, you look kind of familiar. You remind me of a Spades soldier who thoroughly kicked my ass earlier, which is why I'm here being treated.'

"What are you smiling about?" The shop owner eyed Matthew. "The candy?"

"Hmm?" Even though he had mentally moved on, Matthew realized he was still gazing at the sweets. "Oh. Um, yes."

She added a handful to a bag, and handed everything over to Matthew. She tucked the list away with a small smile, then retreated to the back of her shop. His fingers twitched with the desire to leave some money behind, but fought the instinct and hobbled back outside with his packages.

He was once again met with nothing but frightened or hateful looks, when he was given a look at all. Not taking offense, Matthew focused instead on his newly acquired treats. A Clubs soldier who passed by gave a friendly nod, which Matthew returned.

He was surprised to realize he was kind of looking forward to getting back to his tent, where he could get back to work, and be around his new friends. Not as much as he was looking forward to returning to his real home, but the sentiment still surprised him. Shaking his head to himself, Matthew finished off his sweets and hobbled out of town.

* * *

"Hello?" Ivan stepped cautiously into the tent. It felt like weeks since he had seen her, though probably closer to one. She was always off in the midst of battle.

"Hello." Elizabeta was in the middle of brushing her chestnut hair. Her face was still covered in grime from the battlefield. Some of which he could swear looked red. "Were you off having fun with your new boyfriend?"

Ivan giggled. "No. And he's just a friend." She said that about everyone he chatted with more than once.

"I know." She looked up with a smile. "I'm just teasing. It's nice to see you making friends." She set the brush aside and tied her hair back into a ponytail. Then she picked her helmet up and started polishing it with a rag.

"When are you going back?"

"In the morning." Elizabeta frowned at a spot on the helmet. "I just needed some rest."

"I wish you'd reconsider," said the soldier tending to her, one of the few who could be around the royal couple without going into a panic. "It's dangerous, Your Majesty."

"I've been fighting since I was a girl," she scoffed. The soldier didn't really look like he had expected to make any progress, and didn't bother pursuing the matter. "Are you staying here, still?" she said, turning back to her husband.

Ivan nodded. "I'm not fighting." Even if he wanted to, it seemed foolish to have _both_ of them in danger. "I want to return home..."

Elizabeta paused, reaching over to pat his hand. "I'd prefer you to stay."

"I want all of us to return home."

"In due time." She smiled at him. "Soon enough, this _will_ be home. Won't that be nice? You'll have homes and friends in all of the kingdoms."

"That would be nice..." He wasn't thrilled about the war, but looked forward to the end results. And at least his fellow monarchs would be all right. He had balked at the thought of killing the other rulers, but Elizabeta had assured him that that wasn't the idea. After she had captured the Spades palace, Queen Arthur would be sent to live on a distant farm, she had assured Ivan. Which definitely sounded better than dying, and he would have friendly farmers and animals to keep him company. And then he would have the rest of the monarchs with him once they finished taking the other two kingdoms.

"Well, I'm going to get some sleep." Elizabeta set the helmet aside. "Why don't you do the same? Or go discuss strategy with the generals."

Ivan nodded. He wasn't tired yet, so maybe he'd do that. He left the tent behind and wandered through the camp, mostly ignoring the startled gasps and hurried bows as he passed by. He swept into the tent where war strategy was discussed, finding a general and another soldier poring over a detailed map of the battleground covered in little blue and green men.

Ivan liked the soldier figurines. He rather wanted to keep those after the war was over.

"Y-Your Majesty!" Both men bowed low as Ivan approached.

"Hello." Ivan peered down at the map, eyes narrowing as he examined the two armies face-to-face. "Right, because head-on battles have worked _so_ well for us..."

"Your Majesty?"

Ivan rearranged the green army a bit. "Start out that way, get them comfortable in the usual battle, then attack from the sides, too."

The general nodded quickly. "Of course, Your Majesty, we-"

"And tell your archers to stop being so obsessed with aiming for small armored men. Go for the _horses_." They really needed to incorporate more armor into their army's uniform, too.

"Y-yes, right, they-"

"Maybe fewer people will die that way, too," Ivan added, brightening.

The general coughed. "You mean... as they're thrown from saddles, and large animals fall on or trample them...?"

"Ah..." Ivan sighed. "Maybe not. Too bad they can't all be sent to the farm..."

He blinked. "The... the farm...?"

Ivan shot him a glare, one that said 'Don't you dare burst my bubble'. The soldier sputtered a terrified apology.

"Anyway." Ivan straightened up. He yawned, realizing he was more tired than he had thought. "I guess I'll come back tomorrow. I need to sleep."

"Whatever you want, Your Majesty." The soldiers resumed studying the soldier figures that Ivan had moved around. He turned to leave, satisfied that he had helped. Ivan returned to his own tent to get some rest, musing about what strategy their army should try next to ensure victory.


	32. Chapter 32

Arthur had to laugh; Francis' expression was priceless. It was his own fault, nobody asked him to walk in just as Arthur was disarming Yao. And really, the sword wasn't flying _right_ _at_ him, he was hardly in danger.

Francis stared down at the sword for a startled moment, then grinned. He turned to the combatants and studied them, and the gleeful expression fell. "Oh. I thought maybe you had accidentally flung your own sword away. That would have been funny."

"Hardly," Arthur said with a sniff.

"That's enough lesson for today," Yao said, heading over to retrieve his fallen weapon.

"Joining the army?" Francis said, watching the Jack leave.

Arthur set the sword aside, shaking his head. Oh how he had been tempted, but... "Just training. If our army loses..."

"You'll take on the entire Clubs army by yourself when they show up?"

"Of course I will." He smiled grimly. "I'm not going down without a fight."

"Ahh." Francis' grin slowly returned. "True enough. Shall we have a duel?" He looked around, presumably for a weapon of his own.

"Maybe later." Arthur wouldn't admit to how winded he was after a single duel. Too much time spent on a throne, that was for sure.

"Hmm. Still angry I beat you at chess?"

"You most certainly did not!" Arthur crossed his arms, scowling. "Did you want something?"

"Not really. I spoke with the Hearts general who arrived yesterday."

Arthur smirked. "I spoke with him yesterday after he arrived."

One of Francis' elegant eyebrows rose. "Ah, behind in the times again. Oh well. Hearts men are decent sorts, aren't they?"

"That they are." Arthur's mood fell further. He stared at the floor, getting lost in the patterned carpet. "That they are."

Francis slid closer, nudging Arthur. "I still think it's a good idea."

"I know."

"Yes?"

"Stop nudging me." Arthur stepped away.

"Well since I have no new news for you, I suppose I'll go find something useful to do." Francis paused near the door, eyeing the weapons. "Unless you want to duel?"

"Not now," Arthur said, rubbing a hand down his face. "Why don't you go get some rest? Or take a bath. Or plan some battle strategy, or see if we've heard from our spies, or go talk with the rest of the Hearts soldiers before they head out..."

At the mention of 'spies', Francis' expression brightened, as Arthur knew it would. "Right. I'll find something to do."

Arthur picked his sword up again after Francis left, studying it. He wasn't too bad, he had to admit. Not capable of taking on an entire army by himself... But the point wasn't to _win_ , just to take as many of them down with him as he could, to not give up without a fight.

He wouldn't think about what else their army losing would mean. He especially wouldn't be able to think about that if it happened. When his kingdom was under attack, his kingdom had to come first, and Arthur would defend it to his last breath.

* * *

Alfred was starting to cramp, but he was not about to move just yet. He had made it back into the camp easily enough, returned to the tent where he hoped the prisoners were still being held, but he couldn't risk being seen walking in. They would be more suspicious now of anybody who went in there, so he had to be extra cautious. It was night, fewer soldiers wandered around, he just needed to wait. The very second nobody was looking his way, he'd sneak inside as quickly as he could sneak.

His eyelids started to droop, and Alfred shook himself. Now was not the time for sleepiness! He pinched his arm in an attempt to wake himself up, though he wasn't too concerned about facing enemies. That would probably wake him up.

Just as it seemed like time couldn't possibly crawl along any slower, Alfred looked around and realized there was a lull in nearby soldiers. Heart leaping, he eased himself to his feet, quickly stretching out his legs. He gave the area another once-over, and hurried to the tent. He paused near the entrance, frowning at the sensation of eyes on him. He turned, scanning his surroundings, but spotted nobody. Just his imagination, then. Alfred wasted no more time, dashing into the tent.

He plunged his sword into the nearest guard as soon as he burst inside, but froze in surprise at the sight of only one other. "What? Still two?" He quickly shook off the shock as the remaining guard charged at him, weapon drawn. He blocked every attack, slightly distracted by the assumption that any minute now a dozen soldiers were going to burst in. But it never happened, and soon enough Alfred batted the man's sword away and ran him through. The soldier crumpled to the ground, moaning in pain as he clutched at his bleeding abdomen. He was likely doomed, but Alfred wasn't about to let a man needlessly suffer, and he quickly finished the job.

"What are they planning?" Alfred said, mostly to himself as he retrieved the keys to the cages. He exchanged a look with the remaining prisoners. "It couldn't be that easy _twice_."

"There have only ever been just a couple guards," one of the men said. "They never spoke to us, though. But they always looked nervous..."

"I can't believe you really came back, you crazy bastard," said another. "You look great..."

"Thanks," Alfred said with a snort, unconsciously rubbing a hand over his itchy face. He'd be shaving as soon as they were back at camp.

"Same plan as before?" one asked as they were freed from the cage.

"Yeah, pretty much." Alfred dropped his bag on the ground. "We just have to be a lot more careful about not being seen."

"Right." They rummaged through the new batch of stolen uniforms, selecting the ones that fit them best. "Oh, here." Having found his Clubs uniform, a soldier stood, tugging a dagger out and offering it to Alfred. "This is yours."

"Thank you." Alfred smiled. "I'm glad you didn't have to use it. But hang onto it for now. Take the guards' weapons."

As they changed clothes, Alfred kept a nervous eye on the entrance, waiting for the ambush. As minutes ticked by and nothing happened, he started to wonder if maybe the Clubs army was just that stupid... Or cocky. Or maybe he had been right! Maybe they knew only a complete idiot would return on the same rescue mission a second time right into an obvious trap, so they just hadn't bothered with the trap knowing he wouldn't come.

"All right," he said when they were changed. "Now just... peek outside, I guess. Wait until you're sure nobody will notice you, and slip out. That should be the only hard part, we just need to blend in... But keep your heads down in case you're recognized."

And so the waiting began anew. As the soldiers crouched near the entrance and watched, Alfred busied himself with the dead men, closing their eyes and arranging them in more dignified positions. With every death he caused, he couldn't help but remember his first kill, and how horrified he had been. And it horrified him anew to think that he was getting accustomed to it.

One by one, with whispered comments of "Okay, go!", the soldiers slipped out of the tent. Alfred smiled as he watched them go. It felt like hours had passed when he finally, finally found himself alone and waiting for his own turn. To his surprise, hardly anyone remained outside, and Alfred was soon able to slip out as well.

As he walked casually back through the camp, catching up with a few of the other Spades men in disguise, Alfred started to feel a giddy thrill. He had done it! Everyone had been so worried and didn't think he should go back for the rest, ha! He was a hero, he would rescue everybody that needed rescuing. He almost felt like boldly waving to the scattered Clubs men they passed.

Alfred froze at the sharp prod in the small of his back, unmistakably a sword. The pair of soldiers ahead of him also came to a halt as they were confronted by drawn weapons, the men wielding them seeming to have materialized out of thin air.

Alfred's cheerful mood evaporated. He _knew_ it couldn't be that easy...

"We had a bet going to see if you were stupid enough to come back," the soldier behind Alfred said, stepping around him into view. He was smirking, of course, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Is he the one?" said another, and the soldier in front of Alfred nodded. They must have been speaking their language just for their benefit.

Shit. Swallowing, Alfred glanced at the other two men that had been caught. As far as he knew, the other three were making it safely away, so there was that at least... The pair looked more resigned than anything else. Well, Alfred would be damned if he would let them be captured again.

"Let them go," Alfred said.

That garnered laughter from the Clubs men. "Idiot," said their leader. "I suppose you're going to give us a good reason why?"

Alfred took a step back, ignoring their hands tightening around their weapons. He pulled his own sword out, smiling grimly. "I'll fight you," he said. "I'm sure you'll kill me in the end, but I'll definitely take some of you down with me." They exchanged a look, while the rescued prisoners frowned at him. "Or I can put my sword away and come quietly, if you let the others go. I'm sure I'd be more interesting of a prisoner than them, anyway. I know more interesting things, too." He wouldn't _tell_ anyone anything (nor would he remain a prisoner if he could help it), but that was beside the point.

Alfred tried to ignore the shouts of protest from his comrades as he watched the soldier facing him consider the options. Finally, the other man sighed. He snapped something in their language to the other Clubs soldiers, then turned back to Alfred. "Very well. I don't feel like dealing with you." He nodded to his comrades, who stepped away from the Spades and Diamonds men. They remained where they were, staring at Alfred in horror, unwilling to leave.

"Go back to camp," Alfred said. He channeled his best inner Gilbert. "That's an order!"

Reluctantly, the men turned, and finally walked away. Soon they were lost in the distance, unnoticed, just another pair of Clubs soldiers strolling through the camp.

Alfred waited and watched his captors as they talked amongst themselves. He forced himself to remain calm as they presumably discussed his fate. Thus far, the Clubs army seemed fond of capturing enemies. He could only hope that continued to hold true; rescuing captured soldiers likely hadn't garnered him an immediate death sentence, but killing the guards might have.

"Okay," the leader said, breaking away from the others. "We'll take you to the Queen, see what she wants to do with you." He smirked. "She wanted a trap set, but was overruled by the King. She'll be happy we caught you anyway."

Alfred just stared at him, mentally cringing. Death sentence, then. Or maybe they'd believe his claim of knowing useful information and would prove that yes, they really did torture captured enemies, if given enough reason.

His sword was taken away, and he was patted down, other hidden weapons removed. He felt especially vulnerable in the less armored Clubs uniform. He was shoved forward, soldiers walking on either side. They occasionally spoke to each other, but not to him, as they passed through the camp. Alfred was too busy working on how to escape to really pay attention to them even if they were speaking to him. But even as he wracked his brain, he still paid attention to where they were going.

He was led into a large tent, his captors laughing as they shoved him inside. And inside the tent was... well, nothing. Chairs, sleeping mats, other signs of habitation, but no people.

"She was supposed to be back by now," one of the soldiers muttered, in Alfred's language for whatever reason.

"Let's just leave him tied up here and go," said another, voice quavering with fear.

"We'll wait."

They started arguing then in their own language, and Alfred studied their weapons. It would be so easy to grab a sword when they were distracted... He casually inched closer to the nearest soldier.

Before he could make a move, they seemed to reach an agreement, and one of the soldiers left, two remaining. Probably to notify somebody in charge that they had a fun prisoner waiting for the Queen.

Alfred almost laughed. What was it with them and leaving only two guards everywhere? Oh right, he was unarmed and had surrendered himself, he was completely harmless.

He had promised to go quietly. He never said anything about _staying_ with them...

He kept his eyes downcast, trying to look resigned and scared. And also trying to keep them from looking too intently at his face, in case they knew Matt. He waited, not about to become cocky just because they seemed to be underestimating him. Again. For all he knew, these two were long-time skilled warriors. They continued to keep an eye on him, so they weren't quite stupid enough to completely turn their backs.

Alfred had to make a move some time, though. Before anyone else got back, or especially the Queen. That would not be good... If he couldn't escape, he would accept whatever fate he was dealt. But escaping would definitely be nice.

They spoke some more, and then one of them stepped close to Alfred again. He stiffened when he realized the soldier was holding a length of rope he had found somewhere. The man grabbed Alfred's arm, and this was it. He had to act now if he wanted to escape. Alfred dealt the soldier a swift knee to the groin, then hit him in the face when he doubled over, yanking his sword out as he stumbled back. Alfred moved quickly to avoid the attack he knew was coming from the second soldier, but still felt the bite of a blade across his back.

While avoiding the livelier one, Alfred gave the fallen groaning soldier another rap on the head, and he went silent. One down, Alfred was able to give his remaining opponent his full attention, grinning at him.

"You lied," the soldier spat. "We had a deal!"

"We did!" Alfred said. "I went quietly with you, didn't I? You should have made me promise to continue being a good little prisoner once we got where we were going."

"Idiot."

"I know. Not even smart enough to know how to surrender properly."

The soldier attacked without another word. He looked enraged, and Alfred couldn't help but wonder if he had been close to one of the men Alfred had killed. Nothing he had said or done really implied that, though, so he might just hate his enemy on principle.

He fought viciously, and Alfred fought back in kind. Their swords clashed, but not always, and soon they were both bleeding. The other man was good, but Alfred was backed by the desperate need to get away before the Queen showed up, to get back to his men and defend his own Queen. The fight was short and brutal, and ended with a gaping hole in the Clubs soldier's chest, and he tumbled to the ground.

"Sorry," Alfred murmured, panting. The adrenaline was already starting to fade and his wounds hurt and muscles ached. "I have to get going."

The dying man watched him with hate in his eyes. "Go. No loss. I bet you don't know anything useful, stupid pig."

Alfred leaned close, whispering in the soldier's ear. "Actually, I'm Queen Arthur's lover, and have been living with him for a long time. And I know who the spy in your midst is. Useful stuff, huh? Too bad..."

After the furious eyes fixed in death, Alfred let his strained smile fall. He should have been nicer to the fellow during his final moments, but he just pissed Alfred off... He hunched over to close the dead man's eyes, then quickly left the tent. He didn't bother with the unconscious soldier. There was already that third soldier who had run off still alive, one more wasn't going to make anything worse.

His heart pounded as he walked as nonchalantly as possible, but to his great relief, nobody paid him any mind. It was hopefully too dark to see the blood on his uniform – both his and his opponent's – and he tried to stay out of the torchlight he passed. But he figured that even if it was spotted, they _were_ kind of in the middle of a war.

But he was not stopped. Hopefully the same was true for the rest of the former prisoners as well.

As he drew near the edge of the camp, Alfred paused, glancing back over the forest of tents. _Wherever you are in there, Mattie..._ His thought trailed off. He couldn't think of anything that seemed suitable and not upsetting, even if he just said it in his head. _Hi!_

Outside the camp, he found a safe hidey hole to rest and attempt to bind the various cuts. Dawn was highlighting the sky when he resumed his trek.

At long last he walked into the Spades camp, to an uproarious hero's welcome.

* * *

As soon as he realized somebody was hiding near the prisoners' tent, Ivan had hidden as well. He knew right away that it must be the prisoner liberator. Smiling, Ivan waited patiently in his own hiding spot, figuring the other fellow was probably waiting until absolutely nobody was nearby to witness him sneaking inside.

It was a long wait. He certainly was patient! Ivan was starting to cramp up. His only consolation was that it was nighttime, else he would have had to explain a nasty sunburn to everyone.

But at long last the figure stood, hurrying for the tent. He paused briefly at the entrance, glancing around one last time, and Ivan was able to get a good look at him in the lamp light.

Ivan's breath caught. The disguise may fool others, but he knew that face anywhere. His hand went for his sword, and he looked around. But nobody else showed themselves, so he let his hand drop. Satisfied that Matthew could take care of himself, Ivan smiled and turned to leave.

So. That explained why Matthew had been "visiting town" instead of James recently and hadn't seen Ivan or anyone. He was working on changing his appearance! Ivan continued to smile to himself as he returned to his own tent, feeling pleased, and proud. Matthew was so brave! And so caring. He'd risk himself for enemy soldiers...

Sure enough, the next day news had spread that the rest of the prisoners had been rescued. And as for the rescuer, they had nearly had him, but he too got away.

And a few days after that, when Ivan returned to the medic tent, Matthew was there and looked just like his old self again. It was hard to hang on to the secret and not congratulate him, but Ivan's lips were sealed.


	33. Chapter 33

The soldiers cheered when they caught sight of him. They were still carrying on, several days after the rescue. "Alfred! Guess what!"

Alfred laughed at the sight of a bunch of grown men – grown men in uniform, trained to kill – looking like a group of excited kids. "What?" With the way they were carrying on, he expected them to continue to tease him and actually make him guess.

"You're being given a medal for your heroics! In your very own ceremony!"

"Oh..." A medal, huh. Though he tried to tell himself that it was just an empty gesture, Alfred couldn't help but feel a giddy thrill. "Really?" A Medal!

"Come on!" One of the men grabbed him by the arm, propelling him along. "You have to get ready."

"Ready?" Alfred glanced down at himself. What would he wear besides his uniform? And he wasn't that dirty. He was happily back to his clean-shaven blond self.

"Yeah! Hurry up!" And as he sputtered a protest, Alfred was shoved into a small tent by the laughing soldiers.

"What the hell was that all about?" Alfred muttered, scratching his head. He glanced around the tent to see what the joke was, and his eyes landed on a figure standing at the other end, back to Alfred. But he would know that figure and that hair anywhere. His jaw dropped. "Y-you..."

Arthur slowly turned, appraising Alfred with a critical eye. "Good day, soldier. I was asked to visit the troops, maybe give out some medals." His lips quirked as he struggled to keep a neutral expression.

"Wh..." Alfred licked his lips. "You shouldn't be here... should you? It's not safe..." His words sounded weak to his own ears.

"In the middle of an army?" Arthur stepped closer, expression finally cracking under the strain and smile emerging. "I think I'll be all right." He reached out to caress Alfred's cheek, smile growing sad. "You've changed."

Alfred stroked the hand on his cheek. "Have I? I thought my hair was back to its normal color by now."

"You changed your hair?" Arthur shook his head. "That's not what I meant."

"I know. And... war does that to a person." He winked. "I'm still me."

"Of course you are." And Arthur grabbed Alfred and yanked him close, their lips crashing together. Alfred clung to him desperately, kissing with everything he had.

"I've missed you so much," Arthur said breathlessly between kisses.

"Me, too. Missed _you_ , I mean." More than he could say. Alfred had been forced to push Arthur to the back of his mind while he concentrated on the tasks at hand, but the full weight of being separated from his lover for so long, of not knowing when or if they would see each other again, was crashing down on him.

"This will probably just make things harder," Arthur said with a sigh. "Now we have to say goodbye again. But I don't care..." He leaned against Alfred. "And if it is a bad idea, it was Francis' idea, anyhow."

"You two are getting along?" Alfred said, holding Arthur close.

"Sure." Arthur pulled away with some reluctance, pulling a sheet of paper out from his pocket. "I brought you something."

"Oh, what?" Alfred held his hands out eagerly.

"A letter from our spy," Arthur said with a smile. "You never get to see them. I thought I'd bring you one before we soaked it, but I'll need it back before I return."

"Thank you!" Alfred carefully tucked it away to read later. It would probably depress him, which he didn't want during their short reunion.

"You're welcome." Arthur stepped closer again, leaning in for a less needy, more tender kiss, and Alfred responded in kind. Arthur's hands started working their way into Alfred's uniform, and he stepped back slightly in surprise.

"Here?" Alfred said.

"Why not here?"

"Well..." Alfred looked around. "It's not like we can lock the door."

Arthur smirked. "Nobody will bother us."

"Oh man, they're all gonna know we're doing it..."

"Just like they did every night at the palace."

Well, true... sort of. "We'll have to be quiet."

"I think we can manage." Arthur tugged Alfred close again and resumed working on his uniform. "Though we should be quick."

That made Alfred chuckle. "Ha. We haven't seen each other in forever, and haven't had sex in even longer. Being slow is not really a concern..."

"True enough." Arthur finished stripping Alfred to the waist, eyes growing sad. He reached out to lightly trace his fingers over the various bandages. "You take too many risks."

"I'd do it again," Alfred said with a smile.

"I know you would. Is it true you offered to be tortured to spare the prisoners?"

"No, I... Well, yeah, pretty much." Alfred started in on Arthur's plain blue travel clothes. "I did intend to try and escape, though." Arthur opened his mouth, and Alfred cut him off. "Don't tell me to stop doing things like that."

"What would be the point?" Arthur snorted. "I suppose I could try commanding you as your Queen, but I wouldn't. You're you."

"And?" Alfred said with a grin.

Arthur blinked. "And what?"

"You're supposed to say, 'and I love you', or something." Matt wasn't around to coach their relationship, so Alfred would just have to do it himself.

"Ah yes." Arthur's lips twitched. "And I love you."

They kissed again, then quickly finished stripping each other, Arthur doing a poor job masking his sadness at Alfred's various injuries. So Alfred did his best to take his mind off of it, trailing wet kisses down his neck and chest. He had missed the taste of him, the smell. Everything.

They quickly wound up in a tangle of limbs on the mat on the floor. Arthur rolled atop Alfred and they kissed more, deeper, unable to get enough of each other. All thoughts of soldiers spying on them fled from Alfred's head.

"Oh." Arthur pulled back suddenly, looking worried.

"Forget the oil?" Alfred said with a smile. "That's okay, we can-"

"No, I brought it." And the thought of Arthur bringing along a pot of oil on his journey to visit the troops with sex on the brain made Alfred laugh. "Stop that! I just mean... we don't _have_ to if you don't want to. And you can do me if you prefer."

And Alfred suddenly realized he recognized Arthur's worried look as the one he wore when he thought about how their relationship had started. "Artie..." Arthur waited for his answer, looking almost nervous. "If you aren't doing me in the next ten seconds..."

That took care of the worried look. They were writhing and groaning together in record time, Arthur rocking into Alfred, Alfred meeting him eagerly. They both wanted it to last forever, but their pace was frenzied. It felt like they had only just started when they were crying out in ecstasy.

Afterward, they lay in each other's arms, sweat-slicked limbs tangled together. Alfred was rather amused that Arthur was more out of breath than he was.

"You're out of shape," Alfred teased.

"Shut it," Arthur said, though in his happily worn out tone of voice it lacked any venom. "I've been exercising plenty. Just not 24/7 like you. Speaking of..." He ran a hand over Alfred's bandaged abs, less tentative than before, then moved on to his biceps.

"You like, huh?" Alfred grinned.

"I like."

"Have you really been exercising?"

Arthur nodded. "I've been training, fighting. I want to be able to defend myself, even if it's futile."

"You won't have to," Alfred said quickly.

Arthur's sated smile fell. "Al..."

"No!" The thought of enemy soldiers anywhere near the palace was unthinkable. "This is the closest you're going to get to fighting." He held Arthur tighter. "I'll make sure of it."

"Al..."

"I'll win the war for you."

Alfred thought Arthur was going to say something, but he remained silent as he lay in Alfred's arms. He wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.

It didn't matter. Alfred hadn't been joking; he'd find a way to end the war, and protect his kingdom and beloved.

* * *

Much as he would have preferred to spend the entire day coiled around his lover, Arthur had figured it would only be polite to chat with the other soldiers, as long as he was there. After all, it was likely to be his only visit to the camp. Unless the war ended up raging on for years, but he didn't want to think about that.

He had, of course, spent a lot of time with the soldiers who had been guards. The downside to that being, once they grew comfortable with him again, there had been quite a bit of teasing and nudging. They were Alfred's friends, after all.

And now all of the available soldiers were gathered around as Alfred knelt before Arthur. The Queen was holding the medal a jewelry maker had created for him, with Alfred's name carved on the back, and a blue ribbon tied to it. He had brought some others along with him to bestow, since he didn't want to look like he was playing favorites. So far, though, the other soldiers didn't seem to mind.

"So for your bravery," Arthur said, continuing his speech, "for your service to Spades, and to your fellow soldiers, I am honored to present this to you." He settled the medal around Alfred's neck, smiling at the way the ribbon caught on his cowlick.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Alfred said as he stood. He waved to the cheering soldiers.

Arthur watched him, and loved it. He didn't want the war to change Alfred. Oh, he liked _some_ of the changes, that was for sure. But he didn't want his upbeat lover to be forever haunted by traumatic events, plagued by nightmares, his smile a little less real. So every familiar cheerful grin of Alfred's warmed Arthur's heart.

Just seeing Alfred was improving Arthur's outlook. It hadn't been all that long ago he had been wallowing in depression, certain he was going to lose everything he held dear. But the soldiers' upbeat attitudes were making victory actually seem plausible.

Arthur was shaken from his musing by Alfred's laughter; the other soldiers were yelling at him for a speech.

"Um." It was funny how even the gregarious chatty types could hesitate when they were called on to make a speech. "Well, it's an honor. But I was just doing my job, and what was right, and I'd do it again without a second thought." The soldiers continued to cheer, the loudest being the group in front that Arthur was pretty sure consisted of the rescued ones. Arthur was impressed at the display of modesty, coming from Alfred. "But thank you! This means a lot."

It didn't take long for the ceremony to turn into a feast. Which, in an army camp in the middle of a war, was really just rations being served. Arthur was offered something nicer than the stew everyone else was given, but he refused and grabbed a bowl, joining a circle of eating and chatting soldiers.

"Everyone's so happy here," Arthur noted as they ate.

One of the soldiers sitting nearby nodded. "Our home's being invaded, our loved ones are at risk, we've all killed people and witnessed friends dying, and chances are pretty good we'll die. We _have_ to stay in good spirits to stay sane."

"Oh." Well that killed Arthur's appetite, though he continued eating anyway. It was pretty good, really.

"Hey, don't let him get you down." Alfred grinned, and nudged the soldier.

"I won't." Arthur looked around, realizing that he didn't want to leave. He had planned on returning the same day, but he was rather enjoying his time with the troops. He could almost understand the Clubs rulers' desire to fight with their men. Well, they just wanted to fight and conquer, not spend quality time with anyone. The Queen, anyway.

After eating, Arthur walked with Alfred through the camp. Alfred chatted aimlessly, pointing out which tent belonged to whom and describing battles. Arthur mostly just listened.

"Oh, hey," Alfred said, coming to a stop. "Are you leaving tonight? I heard someone say you were only here for the day."

Arthur turned away, gazing at the bright blue summer sky. "I don't know. It's getting late, it will be dark soon..."

"Er... it will?"

"Yes," Arthur said firmly, turning back. Alfred's wide-eyed confusion was a welcomed familiar expression. "I don't want to travel in the dark."

"Oh." Alfred finally smiled. "Ohh. Right."

"I have no choice but to stay here until morning."

"I guess so!"

"And if the trip home is painful because some strong, handsome soldier spent the whole night fucking me raw, well, that will be my own fault."

Alfred visibly swallowed. "Yup. Your fault..."

They embraced and kissed, not caring who was watching. The show-off even insisted on carrying Arthur the rest of the way to the tent that had become their temporary private residence.

And in the morning – both of them as sore as Arthur had predicted – they were forced to say goodbye again. Arthur lingered, kissing his lover slow and deep, trying to make the moment last.

"I love you," Arthur said. "Stay safe."

"I love you, too." Alfred smiled. "I'll end the war for you, Arthur..."

* * *

Matthew kept his gaze averted, wincing at the soldier's cry of pain as Tino set the bone. There were some things he still felt squeamish over, and bones were one of them. And he had felt like passing out the first time he encountered a soldier who needed something removed... Tino had calmly picked up a saw, and Matthew excused himself. He swore that he wouldn't leave again.

"Here." Matthew handed over materials for a splint. It was the best they could do for him under the circumstances.

"Thank you." Tino asked the soldier a few basic questions as he worked, in the limited Clubs language he had picked up. His pronunciation was dreadful, but he was understood well enough.

Once the injured man was sent on his way with some extra pain medication, Ivan returned inside, sitting down beside Matthew. He claimed that he left because his presence made the patients nervous, but Matthew couldn't help but wonder if he, too, was just being squeamish.

Ivan had, if anything, become even clingier lately. He was always smiling at Matthew, and even occasionally winking.

It was weird. But so was Ivan, so Matthew let it slide.

"I'll be going back into town soon," Matthew said, returning supplies to their rightful places.

"Really? Running low of supplies again?" Ivan looked around, as if taking inventory. "I could probably find somebody else to go for you..."

"No, it's all right! It's nice to get out of here. Out of this tent, I mean."

"Oh, probably so."

Matthew half expected Ivan to offer to accompany him. Which would actually be all right, his letters didn't look suspicious, and even alone he wouldn't say or do anything incriminating. But the offer never came. Maybe the poor fellow's wife forbade him from leaving the camp or something.

"How is your leg?" Ivan asked.

"Oh, better, thank you." Matthew smiled at him. "Maybe I'll be able to fight again soon..." It was safe to say around Ivan, who definitely preferred keeping Matthew around as a medic.

"Maybe," Ivan said, somewhat doubtfully. "So tell me more about your boyfriend!"

Matthew laughed. He had kept details about Francis vague, but Ivan seemed to enjoy hearing about him. In return, he told Matthew stories about his admittedly lonely life growing up in the Clubs palace. "What do you want to know?" He avoided such downers as the fact that his boyfriend was married, or that he had nearly gotten Matthew killed...

"I don't think you told me how you first met."

"I didn't?" Matthew scratched his head. "Oh. That's strange." He supposed it had mostly been funny or sweet random stories. "Well, I was doing some shopping, when somebody approached me with horrendous pickup lines. I have no idea why I agreed to have lunch with him, but I did..." He gave an apologetic shrug. "That's really all there is to it. Not a very exciting story."

"It's cute," Ivan said. "My first partner was a servant girl. I guess she was a birthday gift from my parents? She cried the whole night."

"That's weird, Ivan," Matthew said bluntly.

"I know. I tried to be nice!"

Matthew patted his shoulder, and Ivan smiled at him.

Later that night, Matthew found himself wondering what he was going to do about his friendship with Ivan. If Clubs won, that meant his home had been conquered, and his loved ones dead. In that case, he honestly had no idea what he was going to do, period, so maybe worrying about his friendship with the King was near the bottom of the list. And if Clubs lost...

It was an odd situation. He decided, in his next letter, he would ask for mercy for at least the King in the event of Clubs' defeat.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, lovely readers. :)

Alfred gazed down at the pair of soldiers of his company who had been carried back from the battle and now rested on the grass. They looked relaxed, peaceful, if one ignored the horrible stains. One was in his twenties, the other a couple years younger than Alfred. They were both somebody's son, somebody's brother. Somebody's lover, in the case of the older one.

They had been Alfred's friends.

He turned away with a sigh, uncaring of his own minor injuries. He was worn out and needed a rest – not that he would ever admit it.

"What are you thinking?" Mathias asked, stepping in front of Alfred.

"You should see a medic," Alfred said, eyeing the growing stain on his friend's uniform.

"I will, I will... so should you." Mathias hurried after Alfred as he walked off. "Hey, you didn't answer me!"

"I'm not thinking anything," Alfred said.

"Right..." Mathias snorted. "You've been thinking about her since your capture. And especially since the Queen visited."

"Maybe..." How could he not? He was the only one of them who knew where Queen Elizabeta's personal tent was, where she ate and bathed and slept. Unfortunately he could not actually _tell_ anyone where it was, or locate it on a map, but he'd be able to find it again if he returned, he was certain.

"You owe me a beer after the war."

"Okay," Alfred said. "Why?"

"Do we need a reason?" Mathias grinned. They reached their company's tent, and he tossed his axe aside with relief. "But you have to survive to buy it. Which means no stupid heroics."

"I'm not doing anything stupid..." Alfred set his own weapons aside and stepped closer to inspect Mathias' injuries.

"If we happen across the King or Queen in battle, then anything goes! But no assassination attempts... They'll kill you for sure. If you're lucky."

"I wasn't planning assassination!" Alfred protested. "Here, I can sew that up for you."

Mathias jerked away. "I'll go to the medic!"

"Fine, fine." Alfred smiled.

"But promise me. No attempting to assassinate the King or Queen of Clubs."

"I promise."

"If you even consider it, I'll tell Gilbert."

"I promise."

"Who will beat the crap out of you. And tell Queen Arthur."

"I said I promise!" Alfred shoved Mathias back outside. "I never planned on it, okay? Now go get fixed up."

He shook his head to himself as he flopped onto a mat. Of course he had never thought about outright assassination. He didn't care if he was caught, if it meant putting a stop to the war, but unfortunately he had someone more important to worry about. Sometimes, he wondered if Arthur had done that on purpose. Want to keep your lover from doing anything _really_ stupid in a war? Put his twin smack dab in the middle of enemy territory. It was frustrating, knowing that putting himself in danger was also putting Matt in danger.

So assassination was not in his plans, and never had been.

But Matt wasn't the only one who could be a decent spy.

* * *

"Well well!" Francis looked up from his meeting with Yao and a pair of soldiers and an adviser upon the Queen's entrance. "Look who's back."

"Are you always here?" Arthur complained as the others bowed. He unconsciously gave them a nod of greeting.

"Not bad, but you're lacking some of your bite." Francis' grin didn't waver. "Have a good time?"

"Yes." Arthur shooed everyone but Francis and Yao away. Yao offered him a chair, but Arthur was tired of sitting after the ride back to the palace. "It was nice."

"Nice? This is the happiest I've seen you for this whole ordeal."

Arthur had to smile at that. "Well maybe I am. It's hard to continue to think about how everything's going to hell and I'm on the verge of losing everything after seeing how... upbeat all the soldiers are. Even if a lot of it was an act or an attempt to stay sane..."

"That's not why you're happy," Francis said with a leering grin. Of course that was what he meant...

"Shut it."

"Come on. How did he look?"

"Great!" Arthur gushed, then quickly composed himself. "I mean... he looked good, yes. A little banged up, but still as handsome as ever." It was true, he was still flying high from his visit with the troops, and seeing Alfred again. Nothing short of winning the war could make him feel the same as time spent with the man he had fallen for.

"Oh yes?" Francis said, and Arthur was starting to wonder if he actually expected him to describe Alfred down to the smallest detail so that... oh, so Francis could pretend he was talking about Matthew. Arthur immediately felt guilty, taking another look at Francis, at his shadowed eyes and slumped shoulders. He was miserable.

"Yes. Tall and strong, being out in the sun is making his skin darker and hair lighter, and his hair's getting longer, and all this working out is definitely good for him, too, and..." To keep up appearances, Arthur added, "Why? Just what were you up to when you were with him between your palace and mine?"

"Nothing!" Francis said, eyes wide. "I don't want your man."

Part of Arthur wanted to say something along the lines of 'Say, you know, Alfred has a brother...' just to see what would happen. A less nice part of him was occasionally tempted to mention plans to marry Alfred's brother off to some Spades noble or other after the war. He might just do that, after the war when everyone was back and out of danger, if Francis continued to keep their relationship a secret.

"Good," Arthur said, crossing his arms and stepping closer to take a look at the map they had been poring over when he arrived. "We're pushing them back."

"That we are," Yao said with a smile.

"Couldn't you tell when you were there?" Francis said.

Arthur lifted his eyes from the map. "Yes, it was that obvious, our men were throwing them toward the border as I watched."

"I was only joking, no need to be sarcastic..."

"Well, let's call them back," Arthur said, waving toward the door where the soldiers and adviser had retreated. "Let's get this thing won before one of our soldiers decides to be a hero and do something stupid."

* * *

"You don't have to see me off every time I go back," Elizabeta said, looking down at her husband with an expression he couldn't decipher. And so he wasn't sure if she was happy or angry about his presence. She was perched atop a large warhorse that seemed to be looking at Ivan like he was a tasty snack.

"I want to," Ivan said. Especially since Matthew wouldn't be back from his trip into town until later that night, and Ivan was lonely. Of course it made sense that the assistant would go instead of the medic, but still... Ivan supposed he could hang out with James, but even though James did not act afraid of the King either, it still felt awkward. Ivan wasn't sure why.

"I'll bring you back something," Elizabeta said, like a parent soothing a child with bribery. "Maybe one of the Spades soldiers will have something nice."

"No... no, thank you. Well, maybe... No."

Elizabeta shrugged, gripping the reins. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Ivan waved. "Have fun with the cavalry."

He watched her ride off to join the rest of the soldiers, then sighed and turned away. Alone again, even in the middle of an army. He was so tired of the whole thing. The living in a dirty camp, soldiers dying, soldiers killing, he just wanted it to be over. One way or another. He was definitely not in the mood to discuss strategy, and wandered back toward his own tent. His shoulders sagged when he mused about the fact that this was only the first of three kingdoms...

However, everyone insisted that it would be easier after each kingdom they conquered. Ivan was growing more and more certain that he was going to remain in Spades once they won. With a bigger army, they wouldn't need him. He didn't do anything to help, anyway.

Once in his tent, Ivan selected a book – a collection of stories beloved from his childhood – and read for a time, ignoring all the commotion that went on outside. Soldiers chatted and laughed, spoke angrily or sadly of comrades lost, and practiced fighting. Ivan was good at tuning them out.

It was late afternoon when Ivan was startled from the reading that had slowly started to become a nap by a soldier bursting into the tent in an excited panic. That was the only way Ivan could describe it. "Yes?" He did not recognize the man, the only thing that stood out from his otherwise dull features were bright grey eyes. The man was injured, crisscrossed with bloody bandages, but that was a common sight nowadays.

"You must come quickly." The soldier, dubbed Grey by Ivan, paused to catch his breath.

Ivan's stomach tightened. "What has happened?"

"It's your friend, Matthew." And as Ivan panicked, wondering what horrible fate had befallen his friend, Grey practically _smirked_. What happened to the fear his men normally had for him? Ivan had never thought he would miss _that_... "He's a traitor."


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you've made it this far. Promise you won't abandon the story no matter what, okay? ^^;

Ivan hurried after Grey, into the tent that housed wounded enemies. Not wounded Clubs soldiers, wounded _enemies._ Another soldier stood inside, and Ivan grabbed him by the collar. "Get a doctor here!"

"Y-yes, Your Majesty!" The soldier took off without hesitation, and Ivan approached the occupied table in the room, swallowing.

"Matvey..." His friend was sprawled on the table, unconscious. Hopefully just unconscious. His torso was littered with wounds, uniform soaked in blood. While Grey stared at him, Ivan yanked his own coat off and tore strips from it, which he balled against the worst of the wounds, then tied a larger strip around Matthew's middle to hold them tightly in place. "I'm sorry." He raised his eyes, spearing Grey with a glare. "You did this?"

"H-he's a traitor!" the soldier insisted, smug demeanor falling. "He's been seen rescuing Spades men!"

"I know," Ivan said coolly. "I saw that, too. I didn't care, I thought it made him a good man."

"Do you know how I found him?" Grey said, growing desperate. "How he ended up like this? We were following him to town, we've never trusted their frequent trips there..."

Ivan stared at him. "They're medics. They need supplies. I've watched them run out of things!"

"Yes, well... be that as it may, we didn't trust him. But I didn't even make it that far, we found him at the outskirts of our camp, chatting with Spades soldiers. He was friendly with them, he's on their side! They already rescued their men, he must have been planning something else."

"Really?" Ivan frowned, looking back down at the still form. That didn't make sense. But did being spotted with the enemy automatically mean he was with them?

"Really. And when I called him out, called him a traitor in his own barbaric language. I thought maybe I was mistaken, but he confirmed that he was Matthew... And he drew his sword, and fought with the Spades men when we attacked."

None of this made sense at all. He was helping them? Whose side was he on? And... did it matter? All Ivan knew was that Matthew was his friend, traitor or not, and he lay dying. And that smirk when he announced the news, as if he were happy that Ivan's only real friend had turned on him... Without a second thought, Ivan drew his sword and plunged it into Grey's chest. The soldier gaped at him in shock before sliding off the blade, crumpling to the ground. Ivan nudged him aside, shoving the weapon away and stepping closer to Matthew's side. "I'm sorry," he said, tears burning his eyes. "I'm sorry, Matthew, I don't care if you're a traitor. You're my best friend. Wake up..." He touched the fallen man's cheek. "Matthew?"

His eyes slowly opened, and Ivan smiled through his tears, grateful to at least be able to say goodbye. "Matthew, I'm sorry, I..." His own eyes widened. "Blue?" He stared down into the unfamiliar eyes as a horrible realization started to dawn on him. "Forgive me," he said, switching to the language of Hearts and Spades. He unbuckled the soldier's pants and tugged them down.

Sure enough, his legs were unmarked. Ivan pulled the pants back up, swallowing. The scars had been real, Ivan had felt them. "You're not Matthew." The injured man just smiled slightly. "But you said you were, didn't you? To protect him?" Which army was this man even in? He was wearing a Clubs uniform, but Ivan wasn't sure. Whichever it was, he was loyal to Spades, it seemed. Ivan wasn't sure how twin brothers would have ended up on opposite sides of the war, but it was possible.

So Matthew wasn't a traitor at all. And his brother was dying for no real reason. Ivan hung his head, tears dripping from his eyes. He didn't feel much better than when he had thought it was Matthew. "I'm sorry," he said again, since the boy likely hadn't understood him before. He wiped his eyes, then realized the soldier was holding something. "What?" He reached out to take what looked like a ribbon. No, he realized as he brought it closer. A blood-soaked silk scarf. "For me?" he said, thinking for one crazy moment that somehow Matthew's brother knew he liked scarves. But the soldier frowned at him. "Sorry." Ah, of course. "I'll give it to Matthew. Oh, Matthew is safe, he's not in trouble." Did he have time to fetch Matthew before it was too late? Unlikely. He had said he would be gone until evening...

"Thanks," the soldier said with another smile. His hand dropped, and his eyes closed.

Ivan stood there a moment longer, staring down at the scarf in his hand and dreading his task. Why hadn't Matthew said anything? Why hadn't he mentioned a soldier who looked like him? Did they hate each other, had there been an argument? But even if that were true, Matthew would still be sad...

Ivan let out a slow sigh. He reached out to touch the soldier's still-warm cheek, then turned to leave.

As he walked out, he almost ran into another soldier hurrying inside. Ivan just caught a glimpse of shoulder-length brown hair and green eyes, but quickly forgot about him as he left the tent behind. He tucked the scarf away as he strode through the camp, toward the medic tent Matthew stayed in.

Sure enough, Matthew wasn't there. Nor were any patients, and James wasn't around either. Rather glad about that fact, Ivan sat down to wait, picking up a wad of gauze to nervously toy with.

As time passed and Ivan stressed, his mind started to doubt itself, and he wondered if he had made a grave mistake. What if that _was_ Matthew? But replaying everything in his head, none of it made sense in that case... But still, what if it was?

He had almost convinced himself that his friend really was dead, when he heard familiar voices approaching outside later that evening. Ivan sprang to his feet when the tent flap opened, admitting Matthew and his doctor friend. They were chatting together, laughing, and Ivan's heart constricted.

"Oh, Ivan," Matthew said, and James murmured a greeting as well. "Didn't I tell you I needed to get supplies today? Have you waited long?" His smile fell as he watched Ivan slowly approach. "Is... is everything okay?"

Ivan shook his head, pulling the scarf out. "I'm so sorry."

"What?" Matthew lowered his gaze, staring blankly at the scarf. Ivan felt a moment of panic, wondering if he was wrong and Matthew had no idea what it was or what it meant. They _were_ related, weren't they? That would be one big coincidence if they weren't.

But Matthew reached out to take the scarf in slow motion, color draining from his face. "That's..."

"I'm sorry," Ivan said again. He couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I..." Matthew's grip tightened around the scarf, his expression one of horror. His breathing quickened, like he was about to hyperventilate, and James grabbed his shoulders, looking worried and confused. "You... did you... see him?" His already soft voice was almost inaudible. Ivan just nodded, and Matthew squeezed his eyes shut. "Please leave me."

Ivan bowed his head. "I'll come back later."

He wiped his streaming eyes as he left the tent, feeling emotionally drained. Watching Matthew had been worse than watching his brother die, he felt. Ivan froze, shivering, at the agonized wail from the tent behind him. He ran for it, just wanting to get away.

* * *

As promised, Ivan returned that night. He was half expecting Matthew to be in an exhausted sleep, but he was curled up on the floor talking quietly with James. He wasn't crying, but his puffy reddened eyes and streaked cheeks bore evidence that he had been doing plenty of that.

Ivan's curiosity had grown regarding these brothers, but he wasn't about to ask. Matthew could volunteer whatever information he felt like, but now wasn't the time to question him.

"Tell me," Matthew said, voice hoarse. He spoke in his own language, presumably for James' sake, so Ivan responded in kind.

"Tell you?"

"Tell me everything."

"Oh." Ivan swallowed, and sat down near the pair. He closed his eyes, wondering if it would be wise to tell Matthew that his brother died to protect him when he really didn't have to. He decided to skip that part for now. "He was where injured enemies are taken. I thought he was you." His grasp of the language wasn't perfect, and he would be more comfortable storytelling in his own, but maybe James had known the other brother, too. "But he opened his eyes and they were different, and his leg wasn't hurt. But I had called him Matthew, so he knew I knew you, and he smiled and gave me the scarf."

Matthew was staring at the ground, expression blank. "Did he say anything?"

"I said I'd give you the scarf, and he thanked me. That's all he said. I don't even know his name."

"Alfred."

"Ah." Ivan chewed on his lip, watching Matthew. He decided that his friend needed to know everything. "The soldier who... who killed him. He thought Alfred was you."

Matthew looked up sharply. "Me?" He blinked rapidly. "Why did he want to kill me?"

"He thought you were a traitor. He was following you into town. He saw what he thought was you with Spades soldiers, and attacked him. I guess Alfred confirmed he was you to protect you..."

"A traitor," Matthew breathed.

"I killed the soldier," Ivan said. "I didn't... er..." Matthew had started laughing, devoid of humor. Ivan grimaced. "Matvey..."

"It's funny," Matthew said with a manic smile. Apparently he'd lost his mind. Ivan's heart was being squeezed in a vice.

"It's... it's not..."

Matthew shook his head. "It's funny because it's true! I am a traitor to Clubs!"

"Matt!" James gasped.

"Or I would be if I'd been loyal to Clubs to begin with. I'm a spy, Ivan!"

"A spy?" Ivan said weakly. He stood, as did Matthew. James remained stunned on the floor.

"Oh yes. I've never set foot in Clubs." Matthew scrubbed a hand through his hair, his expression still frighteningly mad. "I _am_ from Hearts, but I live in Spades. With Alfred. Or I did... He had to join the army, but I couldn't because I'm sick. And that's why James had to come with me – his name's really Tino, by the way. And he's not a spy, he had no choice but to stick with me. I've been sending messages to the Spades army and to our Queen."

"Matt, why?" said James. Or, rather, Tino. Was Matthew really Matthew, then? He must be, his brother had recognized the name...

"Because he doesn't care anymore what happens to him," Ivan guessed. Matthew just looked at him, not confirming one way or the other.

"So I guess it's my fault." Matthew's lips twisted. "Just by being here. Of course he thought he was protecting me, he must have assumed I'd been discovered..." His crazed expression finally dissolved back into sorrow, and Ivan felt relieved about that, at least.

"You know that's not true," Tino said, finally standing to give Matthew a hug. "It's war. We knew this could happen... you said yourself you weren't expecting to see him again."

"I know..."

"We invaded," Ivan said. "It's no one's fault but ours. And that soldier took it upon himself to kill... well, you, when he should have come to me."

Matthew nodded absently.

"And..." Ivan took a deep breath. "I just have one question." Matthew looked up at him. "Are you really my friend?"

Matthew looked a little confused by the question. "Of course. That was never pretend, I do care about you."

"Good." He sagged in relief.

"That's all you care about in regards to my spying?"

"Pretty much. You're very brave." Ivan tilted his head. "Though how do you know Clubs, and our language?"

"Studied." Matthew smiled slightly. "Before I started receiving proper treatment for my illness, when we were poor, I didn't have much to do besides sit around and read."

"You learn languages as a _hobby_?" Matthew just shrugged, and Ivan shook his head. "Oh. What about your leg?"

Matthew lightly touched the healing scars. "That's real, though not as bad as it looks. I made Tino do that to me, as a reason for him to be with me without having to tell people I'm sick. And to avoid being sent into battle."

Ivan was impressed. "Were you the one freeing Spades soldiers?"

"No..." Matthew's gaze returned to the ground. "That was Alfred. But where the prisoners were being kept was one of the first things I let them know."

"I saw him doing it," Ivan said. "I thought it was you. I thought it was because you are a healer who likes to help people. I didn't mind." He rubbed a hand over his eyes. "You should go home."

"Home?"

"Back to your Spades home, if you think you can go back safely." Matthew looked up sharply, and Ivan avoided eye contact. "I like having you around. But I can't keep you here, after what you told me." It was heartbreaking, sending his friend away, but he had to... To keep him safe, if nothing else.

Matthew took a deep, shuddering breath. "I suppose not." He smiled weakly at Tino. "I guess that's it, then. Who'd have thought I'd be the one to survive this?"

Tino put an arm around him. "We need to go back, anyway. We have to tell Arthur about Alfred. He deserves to hear it in person."

"Arthur?" Ivan blinked. "The Queen?"

Tino nodded. "Queen Arthur and Alfred were in love. This will crush him." He paused. "Or give him more resolve to crush you."

This just kept getting worse and worse. Ivan's heart clenched when Matthew flinched away from him as he stepped close, but he only wanted a parting hug. Matthew relaxed in his arms. "Goodbye," he murmured. "I'm glad we met."

"Me, too." Matthew stepped back, smiling at Ivan through his tears. "Goodbye."

It occurred to Ivan, after the pair walked out, that he had better find more medics. He gave the empty tent a last lingering glance, then followed them out. By then, there was already no sign of them. He hoped they made it back to their home safely.

He made his way slowly through the camp, to his own guarded tent. He curled up on his cot and fell into a fitful sleep, plagued by dreams of his own best friend laughing as he led the army that crushed Ivan's.

It must have been the middle of the night when he was shaken awake. Ivan blearily peered up at the face of one of his generals, who was still frantically shaking him. "What is it?" he mumbled.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," the wide-eyed general said. "But you need to get up, right now."


	36. Chapter 36

Matthew did not immediately leave the camp, despite Tino's protests. As soon as he left the medic tent, he was running for the _other_ 'medic' tent. Where injured enemies were taken, where they were left to die.

At first he thought the place was empty, though a quick hunt through the tent revealed a single body. A dead Clubs soldier lay sprawled on the floor, a single stab wound in his chest, look of surprise frozen on his face. Matthew was so caught up in his frenzy to find his brother, it took a moment for it to dawn on him who the sole dead man was. "You..."

"Matt?" Tino was watching him with that worried look of his.

"You son of a _bitch_!" Matthew kicked the dead man in the side, hard. He kicked him again, and again. "Fucking bastard!" To his credit, Tino didn't try and stop him. "Where is he?" One more harsh kick rolled the body onto its side. "Rot. You died too quickly!"

"Matt..."

"Shut up." He finally stalked away from the dead soldier, eyes flicking over the tent. "He's not here... Where _is_ he?"

"I don't know," Tino said, shaking his head helplessly.

Nothing. There was nobody else.

A glimmer of light caught Matthew's eye, and he walked over to the pile of knicknacks he remembered from his previous visit, taken from dying soldiers. His stomach did an unpleasant flip as he dug through the pile, wondering if anything had been _his_... There was, he figured, no way of knowing.

Until he found the bloodstained medal that had Alfred's name carved on the back. "Oh..." Matthew drew in a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut. "So he was here."

"But that doesn't mean he's dead," Tino said. "How do we know for sure?"

"Ivan wouldn't lie..."

"He might, if he already knew you were a spy."

"He's not that good of an actor." Matthew sighed. "And that makes no sense, anyway. Like they'd capture Alfred and find out I'm a spy, then decide to leave him alive, convince me he's dead just to fuck with me, then let me go... They'd capture us both. They'd kill us both. Or make me watch them kill him or something..." He looked back down at the medal. "Ivan wouldn't have known what the scarf meant. And Al wouldn't have told them. Ever. They'd have given me this instead, I'm sure."

"I... I guess..."

"He won this..." Matthew stared at the medal a moment longer, then finally pocketed it. "And they found it on him and took it and tossed it aside while he bled out." Matthew slowly drew his sword.

"M-Matt?" Tino backed away nervously.

Matthew knelt down beside the dead man, rolling him onto his back. He lifted the sword.

"No!" Tino grabbed the sword away from him. "He's already dead, chopping his head off isn't going to accomplish anything!"

Matthew turned to glare. "Why should _he_ get a proper burial?"

"Matt..." Tino tossed the weapon aside and pulled Matthew close as he cried bitterly, shedding a few tears himself.

Not knowing where else they could possibly look, as Matthew had never overheard what was done with dead enemies, they were forced to leave.

Nobody bothered them as they left the camp. They barely spoke, and Matthew's tears had dried. He walked in numb silence, not even bothering to exaggerate his limp anymore. And once they were free of enemy territory, they turned toward the capital, while Matthew wondered just what he would say to Arthur.

* * *

"I hate this," muttered the soldier, John, as they slowly crept along. They were supposed to be heading into the Clubs camp, but something else had grabbed their attention. "We don't have any time to spare!"

"No, we don't," Mathias said. He was the leader of this rescue mission, and he hated putting it off, but he needed to know what those Clubs soldiers they had been following were up to. They had left their own camp behind, but they weren't heading into the Spades camp. "But we have to keep an eye on them. If this takes too long, we'll split up, and some of us will carry on with the mission."

"We don't have a second to spare," said the Diamonds soldier, Henri.

"I know!" Mathias frowned. "But there's something about that soldier..."

He realized what it was when the tall Clubs soldier finally turned to talk to his companion, who trailed behind him.

The reaction from the other soldiers was instantaneous. They shouted and cheered Alfred's name, hurrying closer and crowding around the startled 'Clubs' soldiers. Mathias almost felt a giddy thrill as well, but he quickly squashed it. "Quiet!" he said, raising his voice over the excited babbling. "Don't be stupid, that's not Alfred! Does he look wounded to you?"

"Oh..." The soldiers looked practically heartbroken as they looked again, realizing he was right. Then they grew nervous, backing away from what was obviously Matthew as if afraid of him. Afraid of telling him they were Alfred's rescue mission. Or worse.

But Matthew already knew; Mathias could see it in his eyes.

"He's dead?" Mathias said in a low voice. Matthew's single nod was a crushing blow.

"You saw him?" Matthew asked, speaking to Mathias as the other soldiers were occupied with their horror. "You saw him wounded?"

"Yes." Mathias tossed his war axe to the ground in defeat, sighing.

"I'm going to the palace." Matthew glanced in the direction of the capital city with his haunted eyes. "But first... tell me what happened." He swallowed. "I didn't see him. I don't know where he is. I only had their word for it that he was dead..."

"I'm not surprised..." With another sigh, Mathias launched into the story. "So he was going to..." He trailed off, realizing he needed to start a bit earlier. "While he was rescuing prisoners – you heard about that, right? – he was captured."

"He was what?" Matthew gasped.

"Just temporarily. They took him to Queen Elizabeta's tent, and waited there for her to return, and he escaped. So he started getting it into his head that we should assassinate her."

"He wouldn't...!"

"No." Mathias smiled. "He wouldn't. He knew he'd be caught for sure if he tried killing her himself."

Matthew shook his head. "Like that would stop him."

"No, but you would. Everything he did, he had you in mind. It frustrated him that he always had to worry about being spotted and recognized, putting you in danger, and he always tried disguising himself or hiding his face. He didn't say much about it, not wanting to talk about you just in case, but I could tell."

"Twins don't belong on opposite sides of a war," Matthew murmured. "I don't know what I was thinking, agreeing to this..." He shuddered. "I was told he was still trying to protect me when he was...?"

"Yeah. While he wasn't going to go after her himself, he still wanted to... spy on her, I guess. Return to her tent, get the exact directions so he could let everyone know, check out her habits, whatever. But we still didn't want him to go on his own, he'd been taking too many risks! So after he snuck off one morning, we went after him." Mathias closed his eyes, remembering. "We caught up with him and were talking him out of it when the Clubs soldiers spotted us. They called him Matthew, called him a traitor. He confirmed being Matthew, and they attacked us..." He trailed off. "Did they find out about you?"

Matthew hesitated, chewing on his lip. "No," he finally said. "They didn't find out."

So his sacrifice _had_ been for nothing, then. It could have gone either way. They might have thought he was a traitor simply because they had just then spotted "Matthew" with the enemy, or they might have already known the real Matthew was a traitor. It wasn't like Alfred had any way of knowing, so of course he was going to play it safe and take whatever punishment they had in mind for his brother. "So they attacked us. Their leader fought Al, but I was busy with my own battle, and the next time I looked he was bleeding quite badly." Mathias smiled at the memory. "But so was the other guy. And Al still won."

"He did?" Matthew looked up in surprise.

Mathias nodded. "Al disarmed him. He _won._ But he let his guard down for just a split second, and the bastard pulled a knife out, and..."

"Oh," Matthew said with a shudder.

"We tried to get to them! But by the time we were free, they were both gone... We had to return to tend to our own wounds, and we organized a rescue mission as soon as we could. We knew he wouldn't last long at all with those injuries, but we had to try... even if it was just to retrieve his body..."

Matthew was silent for a long time, then finally nodded. He murmured his thanks, and turned to continue his journey to the palace without another word. Tino, who had remained quietly beside him through the conversation, hurried after him.

Both groups froze at the sudden sound of cheering. Mathias tilted his head toward the sound of merriment that drifted over from their camp. "Wonder what they're so happy about..."

* * *

Arthur awoke with a yawn and a stretch. As usual, he enjoyed the second or two of pleasant unawareness before he once again remembered that there was a war going on, and he had to get up and face it.

His good mood had lingered for a few days, but soon the reality and dread had returned. He still wasn't feeling as depressed as when the war first started, at least, and he was more optimistic with every victory. He started heading for the throne room, but changed his mind and turned toward the study instead. His regular work was piling up as he spent most of his time thinking talking and worrying about war. If anybody was visiting to discuss anything along those lines, Francis could deal with it.

Arthur pulled open the study's curtains, settled down in his chair, and got to work. He tried to not be distracted by the desk, and the couch, and other myriad surfaces he had used for more than just work. He grabbed some papers, and lost himself in busywork that had nothing to do with battles and dying and conquering.

He worked for maybe an hour before the door was flung open and somebody hurried inside.

"How's it going, Yao?" Arthur barely looked up from his paperwork. "Time to eat? I could definitely use something to eat."

"Oh. No, but I'll tell them to make you something." Yao cleared his throat. "Actually, there are about five very excited soldiers here to talk to you."

"Soldiers?" Arthur looked up, brightening.

"Ah... not him. Sorry."

"Oh." Arthur sighed, standing up. "Well, I suppose I will still meet with them. What's it about?"

"They didn't say," Yao said as Arthur fell into step beside him and they left the room. "My guess would be good news."

"Thank the gods." Arthur paused, eyeing the Jack. "I wasn't kidding about being hungry."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Yao bowed, and hurried off in the general direction of the kitchens.


	37. Chapter 37

He couldn't believe he was back. Matthew looked dully around the bedroom – their bedroom – and knew in that moment he'd never return. He would select what things he couldn't live without, and decide where he wanted to live next. The room was so cold and uninviting. It was obvious it had not been occupied since the war started. No, since Matthew had gone to Diamonds, what felt like so long ago.

The obvious choice for Matthew now was Diamonds, but... as soon as the thought entered his head, he knew that was wrong, too. He wanted... more. Something new. Maybe he could see the world, all of the interesting places he had read about while he was barely able to move. It would be nice to be on his own for a while, he had never been on his own before. Or as on his own as somebody in his condition could be, anyway.

Could he afford such an endeavor? Would his royal friends help? He didn't really want that, though... Well, maybe he could become a real doctor, and offer his service in his travels to earn some money.

With a sigh, Matthew dropped onto his bed, grabbing a stuffed animal that had been left behind. Alfred would probably think he was stupid for wanting to run away, leave everyone and everything and especially Francis behind, but he had to. While losing his twin, his other half, was of course a major factor, that wasn't all. He had seen too much in a short time that he had to deal with. Too much suffering, and death. He had spent much of the past year spying on two people he cared about!

He needed to get away. Francis likely wouldn't understand, but he was going to have to try. Matthew would miss him like crazy, but...

He wasn't surprised when the door swung open. It wasn't like he'd crept into the palace unnoticed, it was only a matter of time before somebody came to say hello.

"Mathieu... it's really you." Francis was grinning broadly as he walked into the room, tears shining in his eyes. "That was quick!" He hurried close to embrace Matthew tightly. "I missed you so much." They kissed, Matthew melting into the embrace and kissing back desperately. Francis rained kisses all over Matthew's face. "I was so worried... I thought I'd never see you again."

Matthew couldn't help but smile. "I missed you, too." He reached out to caress Francis' stubbled (and damp) cheek. "I really, really did." If only Francis weren't King, they could run away together... Matthew stepped back, blinking, as something occurred to him. "You don't seem really surprised by my return."

"Well, no." Francis laughed. "I didn't expect you so _soon_ , though. We only heard ourselves this morning."

"Heard _what_?"

Francis' smile fell. "You really didn't hear?"

Matthew grit his teeth. "I only came back to talk to Arthur. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh." Francis' grin was quick to return, and he grabbed Matthew in another embrace. "Well, it's over, Mathieu. The war is over."

His words sank slowly into Matthew's brain, leaving him stunned. _Over? It's over already? Did Ivan... is this because of...?_ "Wh-what?"

"The Queen fell in battle. She was much too reckless, that's why royalty doesn't belong on the battlefield..."

"Oh." Matthew's eyes widened. So it had nothing to do with him, after all. "Oh..." If it had nothing to do with him, then that meant Alfred had died just before the war ended. If he had only made it a little longer...

"It was one of ours! One of mine, I mean, a Diamonds soldier defeated her. And survived! He's a hero!" Francis laughed in delight. "The Clubs army is retreating, and the King is on his way here to negotiate." Another kiss. "So perhaps you should see Arthur soon, hm? Before he's too busy. And then we can spend all day in each other's arms."

"Right..." Matthew's eyes slid shut. "Yes, let's go."

"Ah!" Francis pulled away, gripping Matthew by the shoulders and beaming. "We should tell him about us!"

Matthew stared at him briefly, then shook his head. "He already knows about us."

"What?" Francis continued to grin, apparently thinking it was some sort of joke.

"He knows about us. He's known for a long time." He hadn't planned on telling Francis, but... well, why not? Francis said nothing, staring at him in surprise, so Matthew plunged ahead. "I knew you were King before you told me. I found out when I was being dragged to my death!" He stepped away. "We were spotted together, and I was arrested, and they were going to kill me. But Alfred stumbled over us and stopped them, so that he could talk to Arthur. Arthur wasn't going to have me executed, but he was going to have me locked up for a nice long time." Francis' eyes widened over the course of the rushed story. "Unless I agreed to spy on you. So I did. The letters I kept sending home to Alfred had hidden messages in invisible ink. I didn't find out anything all that useful, but... I still went through your things, and listened to conversations, and told Arthur everything."

Francis gaped at him in quiet shock. Matthew could practically see his world crumbling. His heart hurt, but... maybe this was better, if Matthew was leaving.

To his surprise, Francis hugged him again. "What...?"

"I don't know why you're telling me this now," Francis murmured. "But you had no choice, did you? How can I be mad?"

By all the gods, did _nobody_ care if Matthew spied on them?

"It's not like anything happened. Spades and Diamonds are allies now, no harm done."

"Right..." Matthew said. "You're really not mad? You still love me?"

"Of course I do!" Francis took Matthew's hand and squeezed it. "Okay, so we won't need to tell Arthur about us... But there are other things I think I would like to discuss with him..." he added, a tad darkly.

The trip between his room and the throne room had never felt more ominous. Matthew didn't want to talk about that with anybody, let alone Arthur. He knew he would lose it again – it was all he could do to hold it together when he was talking to the Spades soldiers. But he had to do it... This wasn't something Arthur should find out from a letter, or thirdhand from some random person who didn't care.

As soon as they walked in, Arthur barreled into Matthew, hugging him tight. Matthew almost fell over, quickly catching his balance and returning the hug. "Hi, Arthur. I'm back..."

"It's good to see you again," Arthur said, voice giddy. "I'm so glad you're all right. Can you believe it's over?"

"Not yet." So that answered that, he hadn't found out from somebody else.

Arthur released him, and hesitated at Francis. Then he laughed and hugged him, as well. He quickly stepped back, though, looking back and forth between them in surprise. "Um..."

Francis snorted. "I know you know we're together, you can stop wondering if you need to act shocked."

"O-oh." Arthur looked relieved by the news. "Well, then."

Francis' smile was not particularly friendly. "And one of these days we'll have to have a nice long talk about using my lover to spy on me."

Arthur actually looked startled, and even a little worried, but only briefly. Soon his sly expression mirrored Francis'. "Oh, indeed, I look forward to it. I'm eager to hear about why you opted to hide your identity from your lover, knowing full well that a citizen of the palace being seen with you would be charged with treason and handed a death sentence."

"Oh. Right." Francis' smile grew strained. "Well. Call it even?"

Arthur's answer was a smirk.

"Well, anyway." Francis cleared his throat. "Mathieu did want to speak with you about something."

"Ah, yes?" Arthur turned back to Matthew. All eyes were on him, and he wished he could just run away, but he had to do this.

Matthew took a deep breath. "It's..." His hands were shaking. Balling them into fists, he plunged ahead. _I can do this._ "Alfred..." That was all he was able to get out. Bursting into tears, Matthew returned to Francis' arms, burying his face.

It was all he needed to say.

After a long, hushed silence, Arthur must have looked at Francis for he shook his head. "I didn't know," Francis said softly. "He didn't say anything before." He stepped back, gripping Matthew by the shoulders and looking into his streaming eyes. "Mathieu, love, talk to me. What happened?" He swallowed. "A battle?"

Matthew nodded. "Yes. No. S-sort of..." He drew in a deep breath, but it didn't help much. "A Clubs soldier saw him and thought he was me. I don't think the soldier had any idea about my spying, but seeing 'me' with Spades soldiers made him think I was a traitor. But Al must have assumed the soldier _did_ know about me, and he said that he was me to protect me... so the soldier..." He finally risked a glance at Arthur, who had covered his mouth with his hands and was staring into space with unfocused eyes.

"Mathieu..." Francis caressed Matthew's cheek, his expression full of sorrow. "I'm so sorry."

"Ivan found him," Matthew said, forcing himself to continue. "King Ivan, I mean. And of course he thought Al was me, and he killed the soldier who'd... done it." He shivered. "But he figured out it wasn't me, and Al gave him my scarf..."

Francis blinked. "Your what?"

"My scarf. You know." Matthew pulled it out, and Francis cringed away from the blood-encrusted silk. "Before we went to war, he gave me his watch, and I gave him my scarf." He also tugged out the watch. "I... you can have it." He held it out to Arthur, who gazed dully at it. He finally, hesitantly reached out to take it. He seemed to be in shock. He really did have a similar look to soldiers Matthew had seen who had lost limbs.

"And where... ah... where is he?" Francis asked delicately.

Matthew burst into tears again. "I don't know! After Ivan told me, I went to find him and he had already been taken away! I haven't seen him since he left the palace. I can't even bury him!"

"You didn't see him?" Arthur said, looking over sharply. "It might not be true, then."

Matthew shook his head. "Ivan wouldn't lie about that. He obviously saw him, he hadn't even known I had a brother. There's no way he could have known what the scarf would mean if Alfred hadn't given it to him! And... and I ran into some Spades soldiers who had seen him mortally wounded..."

"But..." Arthur looked desperately at the watch in his hands. Did Arthur know that Alfred had promised to come back for it?

Francis pulled Arthur into his arms, and Arthur broke down, and Matthew wished he could return to his room and hide. Instead, he curled up on Arthur's throne and hid his face. He knew he should have been helping to comfort Arthur, but he just couldn't handle any more grief.

A considerable amount of time passed like that. Matthew couldn't even hazard a guess how long; maybe hours. He was almost dozing.

"Mathieu?"

He looked up. Arthur was seated on the other throne, looking lost, and Francis stood before them. "Yes?"

"Where will you go now?"

"Somewhere." Matthew stood, grimacing at the stiffness in his legs. "Somewhere else, I don't know. I wish I could go far away, see the world, I was thinking about that when you found me... but I guess I can't. I have to stick with these few kingdoms that have doctors that could treat me." He sighed.

Francis pulled him close. "You will always have a place in Diamonds..."

Matthew nodded. "Thank you. But not just yet. I need a new life... But I'll come back some day." He kissed Francis as his lover looked more and more heartbroken. "I'd never leave you forever."

"If that is what you need," Francis said with a sad smile. "I will even try looking for a doctor who wouldn't mind seeing the world with you." He paused. "But maybe not a really attractive one. Another girl, maybe."

Matthew smiled back. "I won't take another lover."

"Nor will I," Arthur mumbled.

Francis glanced at him. "Do you-"

"Your Majesty?"

They all turned to the guard that had slipped into the room. "Yes?" Arthur said.

"The King of Clubs is here."

Arthur nodded, and the guard disappeared. He was soon replaced with Ivan, stepping hesitantly into the room.

"Your Majesty," Ivan greeted with a nod. "Er." He glanced at Francis. "Majesties. Oh my." He smiled at Matthew, still in Francis' arms. "You have many royal friends." Nobody said anything, and Ivan stepped closer, looking awkward. Matthew studied him, noting the telltale signs of Ivan's own grief. Even if their marriage hadn't been romantic, and he hadn't agreed with her on many things, he had still cared about his wife. He looked impressive, wearing an out-of-season fur-trimmed royal green robe instead of the soldier gear he had settled for during the war.

Arthur casually moved to his own throne, which Matthew had previously been occupying. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Ivan bowed his head. "Thank you. I'm sorry for yours."

Arthur winced and looked away. "Matthew says you're the only one who saw him," he said slowly. "Do you... swear? Is it true?"

"I'm sorry," Ivan said, looking up at him. "I swear. I saw him die."

"Okay." Arthur shuddered and fell silent, eyes bright with tears.

Ivan looked at each of them in turn. "I can come back later if this isn't a good time."

"Maybe that would be best." Arthur smiled wanly. "Now might not be the best time for negotiation. But you and whatever guards you've brought will be given rooms here..."

"All right." He hesitated, toying with a decorative clover on his cloak. "But I want to ask something first."

"Outside our negotiations?" Arthur's eyebrows lifted. "Go ahead."

Ivan took a deep breath. "I will be returning home without a Queen."

Arthur sighed. "I know. I'm sorry about that, but we-"

"I'm not blaming you," Ivan said quickly. "But I'd like to fix that. I'm looking for a new Queen. A good Queen everyone will like, and nobody will run in fear from. One who's smart, and caring, and brave..."

He trailed off into silence, and it took Matthew a moment to realize everyone was staring at him. "What?" He looked around, then gaped at Ivan. "You can't mean me!" Ivan only smiled, and Matthew shook his head wildly. "You're mad! I can't marry you. I mean, I do care about you, but as a friend, and..."

Ivan's smile did not waver. "Matvey, don't be silly, it's a royal marriage. I'm just looking for the best Queen." He tilted his head. "We would have to consummate the marriage, though, but nothing else."

Matthew turned to Francis in a panic, and the traitor looked thrilled. "What?" Francis said. "I don't mind, it would only be the one time. I've heard good things about him."

" _Not that!_ He's lost his mind, I can't be Queen!"

"Why not?" Ivan said. "You're the smartest person I know."

"For one thing, I've never even been to Clubs!" He turned back to Ivan. "By the gods, I _spied_ on you!"

Arthur flinched, but when Ivan didn't react, he groaned. "And a bloody awful spy, too, if you're confessing to everyone you spied on..."

"That's okay," Ivan said. "I don't mind. We won't tell anyone else, of course. But you showed all of the traits I'm looking for."

"I've never been to Clubs in my life," Matthew said desperately. "I can't rule it!"

"You'll learn." Ivan patted his shoulder. "Look how much you already know about it! Even I wouldn't have guessed you'd never been there."

"But... but they'll hate me." Matthew looked around, but found no help from the others. "The people will hate me, they won't want some foreigner ruling them."

"People are less picky about the Queen," Francis said. "It'll be a good idea to stick with the story you gave Ivan before and keep your lips sealed about spying on them, but I think they'll like you just fine. Especially once they've gotten to know you."

"Especially after the last one," Arthur muttered. "No offense."

Ivan gave him a dismissive wave.

"I don't know if I'd even like it there... though I did want to get away and start a new life." Matthew swallowed, and lifted his eyes to look at Francis. He seemed so pleased at the idea, didn't he realize what it meant? "I was planning on coming back someday, though. This would be forever, and I'd be twice as far from you as when I was in Spades."

"I know." Francis' expression grew serious. He reached out to take Matthew's hands. "But we will still see each other. And you deserve this... You know you wouldn't be happy living in Diamonds. I'll miss you terribly, of course, but I'll be thrilled to see you become a Queen." He touched Matthew's cheek. "Do you really want to spend the rest of your life as a consort, when you can get married and have a family? And jointly rule a kingdom..."

"You're just trying to convince yourself," Matthew said weakly.

"When you're royalty, you're used to not getting what you want when it comes to relationships." Francis smiled slightly. "We'll always have each other. We'll see each other. And we'll have spouses we at least get along with. And hey, at least yours won't have a sibling who will want to kill you for touching your spouse!" Behind them, Ivan coughed. "We'll be all right."

"I suppose so..."

"Just don't fall in love with him, okay?"

Matthew smiled slightly. When he thought about the future, he really couldn't picture himself living full-time in Diamonds as a consort.

Francis aside, though, the whole idea was utterly mad. He couldn't be the Queen of a kingdom he'd never been to, that had invaded his own home and caused his brother's death, that he had spied upon. He was sorely tempted to say no. If Alfred were there, he _would_ say no. Matthew just wanted his old life back, living in the palace with Al, seeing Francis whenever he visited – the old, non-royal Francis whom Matthew dreamed about a future with.

But none of that could happen. And... well, why not? He wanted a new life; short of moving to the far side of the world, he couldn't get much newer. Matthew looked at Ivan. "All right. I'll do it."

Ivan looked surprised for a moment. The entire room grew very quiet. Then Ivan grinned and hugged Matthew. "Thank you." While Matthew continued to wonder what in the world he was doing, the other two joined the hug, squeezing Matthew and congratulating him.

"You'll be a wonderful Queen," Francis said.

Arthur murmured his agreement. "And maybe I could walk you down the aisle...?"

"You?" Francis protested.

"His lover would hardly be appropriate..."

"You both can," Matthew said. "Or maybe Tino instead..."

"Both of us, yes." Francis nodded quickly. "That would be a smart move, too. If anybody i _does/i_ protest you being Queen, it'll show that you have powerful allies. I know I wouldn't mess with somebody if it brought the wrath of three kingdoms down on me, no matter how much I disliked him."

Matthew smiled at them, slowly starting to wonder if maybe he hadn't made a terrible mistake. They all thought he would make a good Queen, and they would know. Maybe it really would work out...

* * *

He couldn't sleep. Matthew crawled out of Francis' embrace and slid off the bed. He grabbed a robe as he tiptoed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

He got turned around on his way to the throne room, unused to reaching it from a different room. He found his way there eventually, finding it unoccupied. Undeterred, he tried the study next.

Arthur was seated on the couch, staring into the flames that crackled in the fireplace. Matthew dropped onto the couch beside him, scooting close and putting an arm around his shoulder. Arthur hesitated before wrapping an arm around Matthew and leaning his head on his shoulder. They remained like that in silence for several long minutes.

"I'm scared," Matthew finally said, voice hushed.

"Of becoming Queen?" Arthur said, and Matthew nodded. "Ah. I was, too." He gave Matthew a squeeze. "And you're a thousand times smarter than me, you'll be okay."

"It's not just being smart..."

"I know. But you'll still be okay."

"But what if-"

"You aren't marrying immediately. If you go there and just hate the kingdom, and everyone's nasty to you, you can always call it off. But I don't think that will happen. Everyone likes you."

Matthew smiled slightly. "Thank you. I guess I'll wait and see how it goes..."

They resumed staring into the fire for another long stretch, until Arthur's voice broke the silence again. "At least he _thought_ he was protecting you. Protecting someone is how he would have wanted to... go..."

"Yeah. It is." Matthew sighed. "Though I'm sure he would have preferred something like... jumping in front of somebody and pushing them out of the way, taking the fatal strike that had been meant for them. And then dying heroically in their arms." Rather than alone, with only a stranger he likely hadn't even recognized to keep him company. But at least he had realized Ivan was friendly.

"Probably so." Another pause. "Tino says you're terrifying when you're pissed."

"Oh. Yeah. I didn't mean to scare him."

"Don't worry about it. I could say the same about him."

Matthew managed another smile. "I think I agree."

"Matt."

"Hm?"

"I don't know what to do, Mattie..." Arthur sounded like a lost child, and Matthew held him tighter, feeling him tremble. He had nothing comforting to say. He was still struggling, himself, he had no idea what could help Arthur. They clung to each other and cried for some time, until they were both worn out.

Matthew was almost dozing again when Arthur's voice snapped him awake. "Are you sure I can have this?"

"What?" Matthew glanced over at Arthur, his eyes landed on the familiar watch in his hands.

"It was your father's right?"

Matthew nodded. "I'm sure; you can. Oh, unless you want to trade? I also have a medal of his that I found in... well, that I found. Did you know he won a medal? You might like..." He trailed off as Arthur stiffened.

"I know. I presented it to him..."

"Oh." Matthew winced.

"Yeah. He really did deserve it, but it was also an excuse to go visit him, too."

They fell silent again, not really needing to speak, just comforting each other. Eventually, Arthur yawned widely, and Matthew finally pulled away to stand. "You should sleep. You're meeting with Ivan tomorrow, right?"

Arthur nodded, stifling another yawn. "I'm not too worried about future relations with Clubs." He slowly shook his head. "You're my friend... practically my brother. Francis' lover. And soon to be Ivan's husband. How in the world did you manage that?"

"I have no idea... It's something from a storybook. Not something that ever actually happens."

"I'm sure your own King and Queen of Hearts will like you once they meet you, too."

"Maybe so." Mathew hesitated. "Hey... do you want me to stay with you? I can sleep with you tonight. I mean... you know, sleep in the same bed. So you don't have to be alone."

Arthur gazed at him, considering. He finally shook his head. "Thank you for the offer, but no. I think I'd like to be alone some. And..." He looked away. "Well, no offense, but I don't think it would be good to wake up, tired and groggy, to find his face beside me."

"It's all right."

"Go back to Francis." Arthur made a face. "Just don't do anything with him."

Matthew snorted. He was reminded, then, of how silly Alfred was regarding that sort of thing. How he'd tease them about sex when they were all together, but when it was just him and Matthew, he'd show his true colors and try and convince himself Matthew and Francis were as chaste as possible. Apparently that was never going to end. "I won't. Good night, Arthur."

Arthur smiled up at him. "Good night, Your Majesty."


	38. Chapter 38

"Oh, Your Majesty!" The small group of nobles paused with elated grins. They looked like a group of birds in their winter furs. In fact, they rather brought the mental image of peacocks to mind with their blues and greens. The national color of Clubs had become popular ever since a Spades citizen had become their Queen. It was like the war had never happened in many of their minds. "It's good to see you back!"

"Thank you," Arthur said. He had been back for more than a week, but noble twits rarely noticed anything until it was right in front of their noses.

"How was the wedding?"

"Oh, fine. You know how royal weddings are." Long and drawn out. Enough people knew that he had cried while giving away what felt like his own little brother to be married; he wasn't about to volunteer that information.

"Good! And how are you doing?" Their powdered faces switched from pleased to concerned almost in unison.

"I'm all right, of course."

"You're sure?"

Arthur smiled. "Positive."

One of the nobles actually patted him on the shoulder. "It's okay if you're not."

"Well I am. Don't worry about me." Arthur nodded politely to them in passing as he continued on his way. "My first love will always be Spades."

He let the smile fall once he left that group behind. Yao was waiting for him near the entrance, and offered a cloak with a sad smile. Arthur accepted it without a word, slipping it on as he headed outside. He left the palace behind, headed to the expanse of green in the middle of the city.

The war memorial park was still being constructed, but it was already quite vast, filling with plants and sculptures. During the day children played, adults picnicked, or sat by memorials that were important to them. But now, in the chilly night, Arthur was pretty much alone. He shivered, wondering if snow would be falling soon.

He made his way to the small, plain monument somewhere near the middle of the park. He felt a momentary surge of guilt that he had not visited in so long, as that was the closest thing he had to a grave. He wasn't alone; many soldiers had never been found, and their families had to make do. He squashed the guilt, though, refusing to spend too much time in the park. He didn't want to look weak.

"Hi." Arthur settled down on the grass with another shiver. "Been a while, hasn't it?" He supposed it didn't matter. Alfred wasn't really there, one could talk to him anywhere. But a focal point was still nice. "Well, I saw your brother married off. That must make you happy, right?" Arthur smiled to himself. "It was a nice wedding, as far as royal weddings go. And the people seem to like him so far; he was worried about that. Nobody else was, he's impossible to dislike. Well, as you know." Arthur leaned back against the monument. The cold marble chilled him through.

"We're continuing your work," Arthur continued, gazing up at the cloudy sky. "Since you were interrupted by the war and all. The former soldiers are especially enthusiastic about feeding and clothing the poor, and finding job training for young beggars. Nobody else has bought any houses like you liked to, but the guards did pool their money together and bought an old restaurant. Can you believe it? They fixed it all up, staffed it with volunteers, and meals there are free for whoever needs it. Of course the naysayers have to point out that people will take advantage of the generosity and go in for free food when they could afford it. But their response was that if anybody is desperate enough to lie for a free meal, then they're welcome to it, whatever their financial situation. Al's Diner, they call it..."

Arthur scooted down until he was practically laying against the stone. "I miss you," he murmured. "I miss you so much. I just wish..." He trailed off with a sigh. There was no point in wishing, any more than there would be a point to blaming himself. He could wish Alfred had survived just one more night, he could wish their relationship had started differently, he could blame himself for sending his twin into the enemy camp, it didn't change anything.

Arthur didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he awoke with a start, leaning awkwardly against the small monument, neck uncomfortably bent. He sat up, rubbing the back of his neck with a wince. A blanket now covered him that had definitely not been there before. Arthur stood, tightening the blanket around himself. It was quite late, of course. "I guess I'll get back. I hadn't planned on spending the entire night here..." He looked around to make sure he was alone, then quickly kissed his hand and patted the memorial stone. "Good night." Arthur left the park behind, returning home.

* * *

It was nice to see the fear fading from everyone's eyes, as they got to know their new Queen and realized that he _wasn't_ particularly terrifying. The men who were meeting with Ivan kept glancing Matthew's way, curiosity plain on their faces. Matthew didn't say anything, just sitting in on his new husband's business to get the hang of how that sort of thing worked.

He had to catch himself, sometimes, when he started thinking about how useful this information would be to send back to Arthur. He smiled to himself whenever that instinctive feeling emerged. One time when that happened, one of the other men smiled back, blushed slightly, and looked away. Apparently Matthew was charming people without even trying.

He was already making new friends in the palace, too. The guards were nice, as was one of Ivan's sisters (and the other one was coming around), and so far it wasn't too bad. He had felt a deep loneliness once the last of the wedding guests had returned home, and it was a relief to find some friendly faces.

Ah, the wedding... Fairly rushed, Ivan had not wanted to wait as long as most royal weddings took to plan, but still quite elegant and formal. Matthew had not thought it possible for one ceremony to last so damn long. And just when he thought he would pass out if he had to listen to another droning word, it was time for the coronation. But absolutely everybody had been in attendance – except for the Jacks who remained at home to help run things in their rulers' absence – and that had made every word worth it. As promised, Arthur and Francis had both escorted him down the aisle. Lili was there, of course, and even Michelle and Belle were there. Seeing them again had given Matthew a flicker of guilt for so quickly dismissing Diamonds as a place to live.

Most exciting had been meeting the King and Queen of Hearts at long last, and they had been thrilled to meet him, too.

He was crowned, and everybody cheered, and then everybody danced and ate into the wee hours of the night.

Matthew tried not to think about what had followed; the most awkward wedding night ever.

But now they were starting to settle into their routines. It would take time for Matthew to feel comfortable conducting business on his own, but that was the nice thing about having a King and a Jack and everybody else. He didn't have to.

It gave him new respect for Arthur.

Ivan finally concluded his business with the visitors. They left, after a few last glances at Matthew, and Ivan stood with a look of relief. "I'm sorry. That probably wasn't very fun."

Matthew shrugged. "That's work."

"I suppose boring is better, in our position." Ivan giggled. "When things get exciting, that's usually not good."

Matthew also stood. "Do you need me for anything?"

"Not just now," Ivan said with a shake of his head. "We're meeting with the heads of some villages in a few hours. I have some things to do until then."

"All right. I'll see you then." Matthew waved goodbye, and left the room, contemplating a nap "Ah, Eduard!" Matthew brightened as he approached the new Jack. The previous Jack had assured Matthew that it was nothing personal and he bore him no ill will, but he had cared greatly for the previous Queen and wished to retire.

"Your Majesty." Eduard bobbed his head in a small bow. "How was the meeting?"

Matthew made a face. "I now know why Arthur often looked like he wanted to strangle people by the end of the day. Could they have possibly talked more about inane things?"

"Ah."

"But otherwise, not bad..." They walked together through the halls as Matthew headed for his room. Despite being the bedroom of the royal couple, it wasn't as fancy as his guest room in the Diamonds palace. That suited Matthew just fine.

"Is the King off... tending to his duties?" Eduard asked delicately.

"Impregnating breeding servants?" Matthew said. "He might be, he said he had some things to do." And once the future King was born, it would be Matthew's turn. He couldn't wait until they had children. He already knew what to name his first son.

"Good, good. Are you hungry?"

Matthew had to smile, reminded of Yao and his fondness for feeding Arthur, preferably something that burned the poor Queen's taste buds. "Sure. Maybe we can find somewhere outside the palace."

"I know a good place," Eduard said, taking the lead. They would have to find some snug outerwear to face the cold.

As they passed through one of the vast hallways, Eduard froze with a surprised gasp. "Toris!" He hurried over to the other young man they had run across. "Toris, it's been too long!" He embraced his friend, who warmly returned the gesture.

"It has," Toris said. "I can't believe you're the Jack now."

"I know! Where in the world have you been?"

"The usual." Toris stepped back, smiling fondly at Eduard. "Caring for patients." Oh, he was another doctor? That was good. "Soldiers, you know, from both sides. I stayed in Spades caring for them, but I needed to return, so I brought the last few worst ones back with me once it was safe to move them."

"Always busy," Eduard said. He glanced behind himself, and beckoned Matthew closer. "Have you met the new Queen?"

"No, I don't think so, I-" Toris froze, eyes widening as he stared at Matthew. "You, you're...!" He blinked, surprise gradually fading. "O-oh. You're the new Queen?" he said weakly.

"This is Matthew," Eduard said.

Toris bowed. "It's nice to meet you." As soon as he rose, he was flung back against the wall, yelping as he struck the cold stone. The color drained from his face as Matthew gripped him by the collar, holding him against the wall.

"Your Majesty!" Eduard gasped.

"Don't play dumb," Matthew said, barely able to hear himself over the blood thundering in his ears. "Where is he?"

"Your Majesty?" Toris said in a strangled voice.

"You heard me. Where is he?" Matthew leaned in closer. "You said you've been caring for injured soldiers. And you _recognized_ me."

"I-I'll show you... please..."

Matthew released him and stepped back. "Lead the way." He wouldn't think it. It couldn't be true. He refused to get his hopes up.

Toris nodded and practically leaped away, Matthew close behind him. "I'm sorry about that," Toris said, rubbing his head as he walked quickly. Eduard remained behind, but Matthew barely noticed. "Force of habit, you know? I'm used to keeping their presence a secret. Even now I don't know how others would react, even if they aren't the enemy anymore."

"I'm from Spades, too," Matthew said, in an attempt to divert away from the topic. "Not originally, but for a long time." They had modified Matthew's origin story somewhat, knowing that claiming he had not lived in Spades at all was dangerous, as it could be easily disproved.

"I guess that makes sense."

Matthew shivered. It couldn't be true... he was afraid to even ask. "He would have mentioned me," he murmured to himself. Of course, in Clubs, he might not be understood...

Toris glanced over his shoulder. "He was on the brink of death for a long time, from his wounds and blood loss and infection. Didn't even wake up until recently. And even since then, he's still slept a lot, and I've given him pain medication that has kept him pretty out of it. He has said what I assumed were names, but they meant nothing to me..." He brightened suddenly. "Wait. Are you Mattie, then?"

Matthew stopped, staring silently at Toris, heart nearly stopping. Toris just watched him, expression unreadable. After a long pause, Toris reached out to gently pat his shoulder, and Matthew remembered to breathe. The doctor nodded at him, then turned and hurried off. Still reeling, Matthew followed.

Toris came to a stop outside a door, and casually pushed it open, peeking inside. Matthew unceremoniously pushed past him, shoving it open wider. The room beyond was dimly lit by candles, and smelled faintly of chemicals and medicine. But the occupied bed was the only thing Matthew could focus on as he walked inside, heart pounding loudly in his ears. He knelt down beside the bed, reaching out with trembling fingers to run them through tangled blond hair.

"Is he..." Matthew swallowed against the lump in his throat. "Is he okay? Will he remember me? Will he be lucid?" Toris nodded at each of his questions. "Okay..."

"Here." Toris set a small bottle down on the nightstand. "I'm sure you want him to remain lucid, but if he seems to be in pain, you can give him that."

"I will." Matthew barely noticed the doctor leave, staring down at the familiar face as he stroked his hair, his cheek. Alfred flinched slightly, and it wasn't until his eyes cracked open that Matthew finally burst into tears. "Al..."

Alfred stared up at him, eyes widening. "Matt?" He reached up to touch Matthew's damp cheek, as if to prove he was really there. "It's you." He forced himself up before Matthew could think to tell him to take it easy, pulling Matthew into a tight hug. All Matthew could do was hold his brother and cry. He tried to hold him gently, feeling the bandages beneath the nightshirt, but Alfred didn't seem to care. He was squeezing the life out of Matthew, but he didn't care, either. He laughed and cried at the same time.

"I missed you, too," Alfred murmured after a time. "I'm so glad you're okay!" Matthew pulled back enough to look at him, still barely able to believe this was real. Alfred was grinning, thrilled. He looked as if he were pleased to see Matthew after just a long vacation apart. Which to him, it had been. _He_ hadn't been through emotional hell, he'd been unconscious most of the time. "Hey, it's okay." Alfred took Matthew's hand and squeezed it. "Sorry I worried you."

"Worried," Matthew repeated. "Worried? I wasn't _worried_ about you!" Alfred blinked in surprise, grin fading. "I was mourning! Ivan said he saw you die!"

"He did?" Alfred stared in shock, eyes wide. "Who?"

"Ivan! King Ivan." Alfred still looked baffled. "You gave him our scarf." Matthew gulped. "Didn't you?"

"I..." Alfred stared at him for a long moment, and his expression of bafflement slowly morphed into realization. His eyes slid shut. "Yeah... I remember that. That was the King?" He laughed bitterly. "I really thought I was a goner then." He ran a hand down his face with a groan. "Shit, Matt. You thought I was dead this whole time?"

"Everyone does. There was a memorial service in Spades and... and everything. Everyone was there."

"Oh," Alfred said in a small voice, looking stricken.

"Don't worry about it," Matthew said, shaking his head. "You're here." He hugged Alfred again, laughing in delight. "You're really here. You've been right under my nose." Everything was right again. Even if they couldn't live together, just knowing Alfred was alive would be enough.

Matthew inevitably started crying again. He went back and forth multiple times between crying, laughing, kissing Alfred, and just holding him as tight as possible. No words needed to be spoken between them.

"Matt!" Alfred suddenly said with a sharp gasp, and Matthew drew back in alarm.

"What is it?" Was he in pain? Had Matthew hugged him too tightly? Was it time for some medicine?

Alfred grabbed his left wrist, holding the hand up. It took Matthew a moment of panic to realize Alfred was focused on the gold band around his finger. He relaxed with a smile.

"Oh, that. Yeah, I..." He trailed off at Alfred's heartbroken expression. "Al?" And in an instant, he understood what the problem was. "Oh, Al..." He embraced his brother again, soothing. "I'm sorry. There will be other ceremonies and celebrations, and you'll get to see them all." Alfred didn't say anything, and he sighed. "The wedding was long and boring, you wouldn't have enjoyed it."

"But still..."

"Think of how much more fun it will be when we celebrate our first children!" Matthew felt giddy at the thought. His kids would have their Uncle Alfred!

"Oh yeah." Alfred brightened. "Children!"

Hoping that was enough to satisfy Alfred, Matthew finally got up off his knees and sat on the edge of the bed. "Ivan's already trying with... you know, the girls, the... you know."

"Ivan?" Alfred let out a slow breath. "The same Ivan?"

Matthew nodded. "That's right, the same. I'm, um, the Queen of Clubs."

"I don't think I can take much more of this." Alfred flopped back onto his pillow, laughing helplessly. "Are you serious?"

"I'm serious." He rubbed Alfred's arm. "When the war was over, after Queen Elizabeta was killed, he came to us and asked me to be his Queen. And this was after he knew I was a spy... he still thought I was the best candidate."

"Of course you are!" Alfred grinned. "Wow... Mattie, that's so great. Look at you!"

Matthew nodded. Look at him, indeed. Only a few years ago, he hadn't thought he would ever even be able to leave his house. Let alone amount to anything.

"And nobody minds? That a foreigner and spy is ruling them?"

"Only Ivan knows I was a spy, and I haven't heard many complaints about me being their Queen. They seem to like me. They were pretty terrified of the last one..."

"Of course they like you!" Alfred was beaming like a proud parent. "What about Francis?"

"I still love him, of course." Matthew looked away, toying with his ring. It had become a habit. "I miss him. He's so far away now. But he was in favor of this, and we still see each other... He accompanied me here, then came back for the wedding. Lili must be used to ruling by herself."

Alfred patted Matthew's hand. "You didn't fall for Ivan?"

Matthew shook his head. "No, no. Not like that, we're just good friends."

"Oh..."

"Don't worry about it." Matthew smiled at him, but realized that there were more important matters to tend to. "How are you feeling? Any pain?" He reached for the bottle Toris had left.

Alfred eyed the bottle with trepidation. "No, I'm all right." He winced. "That stuff tastes awful. And messes me up." He scooted away when Matthew reached for his nightshirt. "What?"

"I want to see how you're doing," Matthew said. "I was a medic for a time, you know. I should change your bandages. And get you cleaned up! I see you have a tub in here."

Alfred wrestled Matthew's hands away, face reddening. "No no no, don't worry about it, Toris will do that."

"Don't be silly, Alfred. You waited on me hand and foot for years."

"That was different!"

Matthew raised an eyebrow. "How?"

"Um..." Alfred chewed on his lip. "I wasn't a Queen?"

"Idiot. Come here." Gently, Matthew unbuttoned Alfred's shirt, looking over the bandages. No blood, but they must still be sweaty and dirty. And he wanted to check on the injuries, anyway. Matthew stood, collecting medical supplies, and also poking his head out the door to flag down a servant to fill the tub. He also directed the servant to fetch a messenger.

"Here we are." Matthew sat down on the bed again.

"That stuff stinks," Alfred warned, eyeing one of the bottles Matthew carried.

"Don't be such a baby."

"I wasn't _mean_ when I took care of you..."

Matthew just grinned, feeling another thrill of delight. "Sorry." He unwound the bandages, grimacing at the healing, but awful looking scars. How had he even managed to survive?

The servant returned with hot water to start filling the bathtub, and behind him came a messenger. Alfred looked curiously at him, and Matthew winked. "Come here," he told the messenger. "I want you to give an important message to the Queen of Spades."

* * *

Matthew was reluctant to leave his brother's side. But after being cleaned up, his wounds tended to, he had fallen asleep and Matthew decided he had other things to tend to.

His first task was to return to the throne room. Ivan wasn't there, so he tried their bedroom next, wondering if maybe Ivan was... busy with his current important job. But no, he was there.

Ivan stood with a smile as he greeted his husband. "There you are. I was wondering where you ran off to."

Matthew returned the smile, then drew a hand back and slapped Ivan hard.

Ivan stumbled away with a shocked look, like a kicked puppy. "Matvey..."

Matthew glared at him, fists clenched at his sides. "You bastard! All you had to do was check for a fucking pulse! How could you just leave him without even checking?"

"Wh-what?" Ivan goggled at him.

"Alfred! He's still alive! We've suffered all this time for nothing!" Feeling overwhelmed, Matthew collapsed against Ivan's chest and cried. Ivan's arms wrapped awkwardly around him. "He's been right here... that doctor, Toris, has been taking care of him..." And it occurred to him that he hadn't even offered Toris anything. The man had spent so much time trying to save a dying enemy. He'd saved Alfred's life for no other reason than he was a doctor. Matthew wondered if he would even accept a reward. Maybe his own hospital...

"Oh," Ivan said softly, then gasped. "Oh! I saw him there. I should have realized... And I was the one who called for a doctor, too." He squeezed Matthew. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking, then. I was too upset." He pushed Matthew back, tilting his chin up to smile at him. "But he's alive. That's great!"

"Yeah..." Matthew smiled wanly back. He felt drained, and just wanted to sleep. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling, or if he was angry at Ivan. He supposed not. "That's what counts. Sorry I hit you..."

"It's okay."

"I'll go check on him again in the morning..."

Ivan watched Matthew retreat to the bed, removing only his shoes and outer robe. "You should be happy."

"I am." Matthew dropped onto the bed, and grinned at Ivan. "More than I could describe."


	39. Chapter 39

Arthur flung himself off his horse, panting and exhausted. His horse didn't look much better. He reached out to touch her neck. "It's okay. We're here now. Someone will take care of us." He looked around, spotting the guards and servants approaching him to do just that. He nodded politely to them, and they bowed in return, looking puzzled at his presence.

It had been an intense journey. He had stopped to rest only when exhaustion had forced him to. Ever since the day that man had arrived in the palace.

_Arthur paused in mid-sentence, blinking in surprise at the intruder that walked in. The guards didn't seem particularly concerned. Arthur quickly apologized to the Diamonds delegate he was speaking with, and approached the newcomer. "Excuse me?"_

" _Your Majesty." The man bowed. "I have a message for you-"_

" _Can it wait? I'm kind of busy..." He glanced back at the waiting delegate, then glared at his guards for allowing him in in the first place._

_The man didn't seem fazed at all. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but the Queen of Clubs told me to talk to you as soon as possible."_

" _Oh..." Arthur gave the visitor from Diamonds an apologetic look. "All right, what does the Queen want?"_

_The messenger bowed again. "He requests that you visit his palace soon."_

_Arthur stared at him in disbelief. Was Matthew out of his skull? "With all due respect to your Queen, I was_ just there. _I do have things I need to do here."_

_To his surprise, the messenger merely nodded. "He said you'd feel that way. He also wanted me to tell you that his husband was mistaken."_

" _Um, oh?"_

" _And his brother is all right, and recovering in the palace with him."_

" _Oh, that's..." Arthur blinked. "What?" He repeated the words in his head, covering his mouth with shaking hands. "Oh..." He didn't pause to apologize to the visiting delegate. Mind reeling, he ran from the room, ignoring the shouted protests from surprised guards and guests._

Arthur was led into the palace, where it was pretty much insisted he bathe and change clothes before going any further. It was frustrating, after a long journey, to be so close and still so far. But he supposed being clean would be preferable, so Arthur partook in the quickest bath ever, then dressed in the green robes provided. The servant assisting him commented that they went well with his eyes, and he should wear green more often.

At long last he was led to the throne room. He still felt weary, and hurt all over, but he had to admit that he felt much better after getting cleaned up. And of course he wanted to look presentable if...

Ivan rose to his feet with a friendly smile. "Welcome, Your Majesty. That was fast, we weren't expecting you so soon."

Arthur murmured a greeting, bowing his head. He didn't want to seem impolite, even if there really was only one thing on his mind.

Ivan, of course, must be well aware of that. "Come, you... well, you look tired. Do you need to rest?" He tilted his head, not even needing a response. "I suppose not. I'll show you the way." He swept out of the throne room, and Arthur rushed after him.

Nothing more was spoken between them as Ivan led the way through the halls, Arthur practically running to keep up with the taller man's long strides. He didn't bother with feeling anger toward the other monarch for being so cruelly wrong. He just wanted to see him...

"In here," Ivan said, pausing before a door. "Go ahead."

Arthur nodded, swallowing thickly. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, not daring to breathe.

Matthew was seated on the edge of the bed. He stood with a smile, nodding politely to Arthur, leaving without a word.

Arthur barely noticed him. He rushed to the bed and tumbled onto it beside Alfred, kissing him desperately. Alfred's arms went around him, pulling him closer, and Arthur held him as tightly as he dared. Tears dripped onto Alfred's face as Arthur kissed him again and again. "I love you," he said hoarsely against Alfred's lips. "I love you so much. I'm never letting you go..."

Alfred grinned up at him. "I love you, too."

Arthur pressed their foreheads together, trembling as he cried. Finally. He finally had Alfred back in his arms, where he belonged.

And suddenly, within the overwhelming joy, Arthur felt a sharp stab of fear. Fear that he would lose Alfred and have to go through all of that again. Fear that this happiness was fleeting, that Alfred would be taken from him again... They would return, and he would still be a guard, and still in danger. Hell, they had tried to warn him, there had been whispers about how cruel it was for him to make his lover a guard, put him in danger. He could be something else, of course, but what? He would likely hate boring political positions, a guard and war hero couldn't go back to being a stable boy... And it didn't matter what he found to do. If there was another war, he would be returned to battle, no matter what job he held.

And all of that was only if Alfred was willing to leave Clubs at all...

"Artie?" Alfred whispered.

Arthur shook himself, staring down at that beloved face. "Alfred..." He licked his lips, struck by a sudden insane thought. "Al..." And with sudden crystal clarity, he realized that the insane thought was perfect. "Marry me."

"What?" Alfred laughed, slowly trailing off when Arthur didn't join him. "You can't be serious."

"I'm serious." Arthur kissed him again. "Marry me, Alfred."

"Artie..." Alfred reached up to trail his fingers over Arthur's cheek. "I know you missed me, but don't be ridiculous. We can't get married."

"Of course we can!" The more he thought about it, the more right it seemed. He would just have to show Alfred.

Alfred smiled sadly. "If you were the King, that would be one thing... I can't be a King, Arthur. Can't you just be happy with things the way they were?"

There was another difference between royalty in the four kingdoms and elsewhere. Outkingdom, a ruling Queen could marry whomever, and nobody cared because her husband could just be a prince and she would still have most of the power... That would be nice. "Matthew argued against marrying Ivan, too. You're both so stubborn! Now he's a great Queen."

"Queens don't have to be of royal blood!"

Arthur snorted. "Who cares about that? Do you know what idiots are left in Spades who have royal blood? Why do you think I haven't remarried? I won't let just anyone become King. And you're the one everyone would want!" He combed a hand through Alfred's hair. It was matted and needed a good combing. "They love you, Alfred. You're their hero. Before the war, during the war... Everyone went to your memorial service. The kingdom has been in mourning, as if it did lose one of its rulers."

"You're exaggerating," Alfred said weakly.

"I'm not! Everyone will be thrilled that you're alive, and they'd love to have you as their King, no matter what blood you have!" Arthur grinned, and Alfred looked worried. "Really, what difference is there between our blood? Or between yours and some noble idiot who has a few drops of royal blood in him? Look at how much you've spilled for Spades, isn't that enough?"

"Artie-"

"And don't forget, your brother's royalty now! That has to count for something."

"Artie!" Alfred said again, desperately. "Okay, I get the point, but that doesn't mean I could do it! Do you know what I'm qualified for? Taking care of horses, and killing people. I'm not smart like Mattie is!"

"You're smart," Arthur insisted. "You'd pick it up. You won't be alone, I'll always be with you. And Yao, and our advisers..."

"But..." Arthur wanted to grind his teeth in frustration that Alfred didn't _see_. "They might not all approve, you know? A lot of people might still hate having a commoner for a King..."

"Nobody in power is universally liked," Arthur said with a dismissive shrug. "And if enough people protest... we always have this." He tugged something out, that he had kept with him. Alfred stared up at it in confusion.

"My watch?"

"Your father's watch," Arthur agreed. "These were only given to members of the royal family."

Alfred's eyes bugged. "Are you _serious_?" he gasped.

"Of course not." Arthur pressed it into Alfred's hands. "It's just a watch. But that was believable, wasn't it?"

Alfred scowled. "Arthur... I'm not going to lie to become King."

"Only if it's required, if enough people protest! Which I doubt they will." Arthur took Alfred's hands in his own. "Al... Will you marry me?"

Alfred stared up into his eyes, chewing on his lip. Arthur's heart hammered against his ribs as he waited. Finally, Alfred nodded. "Okay."

The pieces finally all fell into place. Everything was perfect. Arthur embraced him again, kissing him hard. He curled up beside Alfred, wanting to just hold him, and Alfred seemed perfectly content to snuggle close. "Thank you," he murmured.

"Don't thank me just yet," Alfred said with a chuckle. "Wait until after I start to wonder just what the hell I've gotten myself into and panic."

"It'll be fine. I was less ready than you when I suddenly had to be Queen, all on my own." He ran his fingers down Alfred's cheek. He'd never get tired of touching him.

"Yeah. You do all right."

"Thanks." Arthur laughed. "Oh..." A wave of guilt coursed through him. "Oh damn. I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't worry about forcing me into anything. You didn't."

"Not that." Arthur sat up, chewing on a thumbnail. "I'm taking you away from your brother. He won't be too happy with me, either..." He felt another jolt of guilt when he remembered that worrying about Alfred remaining in Clubs with Matt had been one of the reasons he had wanted desperately to keep Al with him in the first place...

"Oh. That." Alfred pushed himself up, wrapping an arm around Arthur. "It's okay. He's already had that talk with me, actually."

"He has?"

"He told me in no uncertain terms that I can't stay in Clubs." Alfred sighed. "Just like when I wanted to go to Diamonds with him. Except this time I don't get to look forward to the day he returns..."

"You'll still see each other," Arthur said weakly.

"That's right." Unless Alfred had learned to throw his voice, that wasn't him. Arthur looked up sharply as Matthew walked into the room. How much had he heard? Obviously not much, or he'd be mentioning that first for sure.

Matthew settled down beside them on the bed, smile sad. "You know you belong in Spades."

"I know," Alfred said. "But-"

"No buts." Matthew took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "You've devoted most of your life to me, Al. Ever since I fell sick when we were kids, you gave up everything to take care of me. You let yourself become a whore so I would be taken care of – no offense, Arthur. And now you almost died to protect me. I wish we could stay together, but... you have to start living for you."

"I know," Alfred said again, softer. They had obviously had similar discussions before. "I just worry about you. I'll be in Spades, Francis is all the way in Diamonds, all you have here is a husband you love as a friend."

"And other new friends," Matthew reminded him. "And soon we'll have children, I'll have a nice big family. I'll be all right."

Alfred nodded, sighing.

"Matt," Arthur said, rubbing Alfred's back, "is Ivan nearby?"

Matthew tilted his head. "I can send for him."

"Would you?"

"Sure." Matthew stood, walking to the door and sending someone off to fetch the King. It only took a couple minutes for him to show up, smiling as he caught sight of the crowded bed.

But as Arthur stood, Ivan flinched away, looking worried. He looked, actually, very much like a child being confronted by a parent after breaking the window. He must have been anticipating Arthur's wrath regarding making sure people were dead before announcing them as such.

Instead, Arthur just grinned. "I thought I would introduce you two to the future King of Spades." He sat back down beside the twins, letting that sink in. Matthew looked back and forth between the pair next to him, jaw dropping. Ivan's only reaction was a smile.

"You can't..." Matthew shook his head slowly, eyes a little wild. "Can you? Can you _do_ that?"

"Of course I can," Arthur said. "There's no law set in stone that the King absolutely must be of royal blood. Royal lines have to start somewhere, don't they?" Matthew opened his mouth, and Arthur quickly cut him off. "For goodness sake, you had to be argued with to become Queen, Alfred had to be argued with to become King, don't tell me we have to argue with you about Alfred becoming King."

"N-nooo," Matthew said. "No, I just don't want him to get hurt. If you think it will work..."

"Of course. It will be fine. Do you honestly think anyone would be upset about him becoming King?"

"No," Matthew said, smile growing. "Definitely not." And Matthew pounced on Alfred to hug him, and Arthur was about to protest before remembering that Matthew would know a lot more about Alfred's physical well-being than he did.

"Good choice," Ivan said lightly.

Arthur eyed him. "You know, I should declare war right back on you for making me think he was dead." He smiled to show he wasn't really being serious.

"Fair enough." Ivan patted his head. What the hell? "I'm glad you didn't get sent to our farm."

"To your... What?"

"Never mind."

Arthur shrugged and returned his attention to the bed. The twins were still hugging and laughing and babbling together about Alfred becoming King.

"You think I'll do good, right?" Alfred said.

Matthew lightly smacked Alfred's shoulder. "Sure!"

"Sure? Not 'definitely' or 'of course'?"

"Well, I'm not psychic, Al, but-"

"But what?" Alfred was starting to sound worried.

"You'll do fine," Matthew said with a helpless laugh. "Just fine. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried!"

"Good. How are you feeling?"

Arthur gave a guilty wince. He hadn't asked that...

"Fine," Alfred said. "I want to go outside."

"I know." Matthew sounded like they had been over this before. A lot. "It's freezing out."

"So? I was stabbed, I'm not sick." Alfred pouted. "I took you outside when you wanted to..."

"Not in the cold. Or the rain. Or the heat..."

"He must be a fun patient," Arthur noted to Matthew.

"I don't mind." Matthew beamed. "It'll be a long time before I'll be able to get pissed at him again. And surprisingly, he hasn't taken advantage of that yet." He hugged Alfred again. "I'll come check on you later, okay?"

"Okay." Alfred squeezed him. "Go do Queen stuff!" He laughed. "You can only boss me around for a little while longer, soon I'll outrank you!"

"Never." Matthew kissed his head, bid him and Arthur goodbye, and left the room with Ivan, who waved.

"I worry that he's not getting enough done that he's supposed to," Alfred mused once the royal couple were gone. "He spends a lot of time taking care of me."

"I doubt Ivan minds." Arthur caressed Alfred's cheek. "So you're okay? Nothing hurts?"

"My ass. Help me up?"

Arthur was helping him before he even realized what he was doing. He had Alfred upright, carefully supporting him, before it occurred to him that he might want to check beforehand to see what Al was and was not allowed to do. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Alfred said with a laugh.

"Let me get you back to bed, before Matt hurts me..."

Alfred gave Arthur a squeeze, that sent pleasant tingles through every nerve. "In a minute. Please?"

He didn't sound like anything was wrong or hurting, so Arthur walked around the room with him a few times before tucking him back into bed.

"So is Matt your caregiver now?" Arthur wondered. That was a rather cute bit of turnabout.

"Not exactly. This nice fellow Toris is my doctor, but Matt does all the little stuff."

"Well we'll wait until Toris says you're okay for travel before you return to Spades. I'll have to leave before then, I'm sure."

Alfred nodded, stretching and rubbing his back. "You won't tell anyone about the wedding, will you?"

"Not until you're there," Arthur promised.

"Good." Alfred leaned close to kiss Arthur.

"I love you," Arthur said. He couldn't say it enough. "My fiance."

Alfred grinned, then kissed him again, a firm and serious kiss that stole Arthur's breath away. Alfred pulled away to smile and wink, before leaning in to kiss along Arthur's jaw.

"Al..." Arthur fought against every instinct and pulled away. "Not now, love. You're wounded."

"I'm better," Alfred said, undeterred.

Arthur stood, removing himself from temptation altogether. "Besides, now we should wait for the wedding night."

"The wedding night?" Alfred stared up at him with a look that bordered on horrified. "Don't royal weddings take a long time to plan?"

"They can," Arthur said. "But think of how amazing it'll be." Who'd have thought? Here was Arthur being the one suggesting they hold off on sex. It helped that a frantic horseride between their kingdoms had left him exhausted and aching all over, and sex did not sound particularly fun at the moment. They'd have to see how he held out, though.

Alfred groaned. "Yeah... You better consummate my brains out."

"Um... no."

" _No?_ "

"There are... ah, traditions for how a royal marriage is consummated."

Alfred blinked at him. "Why? Who's gonna know?"

"It's nothing bad. King does Queen, missionary position, on the royal bed."

"Oh." Alfred pondered that, and nodded. "I can do that."

"Then once we take care of that, we can do whatever we like."

"Wait..." Alfred held up a hand. "Wait. That's always the way it is?"

Arthur nodded. "Like I said, it's tra-"

"Even if the Queen doesn't like to bottom?"

"In that case, the Queen needs to suck it up and take it that one time."

"Even if it's a female King and male Queen?"

"You are putting way too much thought into this..."

"So Ivan and Mattie...?"

"Let it go, Alfred."

Alfred sighed. "So after I consummate you nice and hard, can you do me on my new throne?"

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, then shut it and shrugged instead. "Whatever my King wishes."

Alfred's eyes widened, and a slow smile spread across his face. "I think I'm going to like this."


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter. :D Thanks for reading and reviewing, you guys have been great!

"How are you feeling?" asked Yao, ever the mother hen.

Alfred stopped his pacing. "Fine." To be honest, he was getting kind of tired of everyone asking... The first month or so after his return in early spring had been filled with excitement and disbelief at his survival. The entire palace (and beyond) kept coming to visit him, or just touch him to make sure he was real. In the months since then, as the palace denizens grew used to his existence, everyone still treated him like glass, no matter how many times he assured them he was all right and not about to keel over.

"All right, just checking." Yao reached out to straighten the lapels of Alfred's blue coat. "That's the outfit you wore to your first Festival of Swords with His Majesty, right?"

Alfred grinned. "Yeah! Well, sort of, it needed some fixing. I've put on weight since then..."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Yao said with a snort, patting Alfred's bicep. "That feels like a long time ago, doesn't it? You were the mysterious new suitor everyone was curious about..."

"And I was just as nervous about walking through those doors... Well, not those particular doors, but you know."

"You'll be fine," Yao assured him.

Alfred resumed pacing, until the door at last opened and Alfred's escort stepped in – the Queen of Clubs, of course, in his regal green robes.

"Finally," Alfred said with a grin. "Are they ready for me?"

"They're ready." Matthew pulled him into a tight hug.

"Still don't see why I have to be the one to make a fancy entrance... doesn't the Queen usually walk down the aisle?"

"Usually. But for the time being, he still outranks you."

"He just likes showing me off," Alfred said with a chuckle. His lover had shown a touch of theatrics when he had introduced the future King to the public. Alfred had waited for his cue, stepped out onto the balcony, and... discovered, from their reactions, that Arthur had not actually told anyone who his fiance was. Or that Alfred was even alive.

"Probably." Matthew stepped back, beaming. "Look at you..."

"I know!" Alfred held his arms out and did a turn.

"I'm proud of you."

Alfred laughed. "I didn't do anything. Arthur proposed and I said yes. Eventually."

Matthew swatted him. "You know what I mean. He wouldn't have proposed if he didn't think you would make a good leader."

"I hope so. How does Arthur look?"

"You're going to see him in about five seconds." Matthew laughed. "He looks good. He didn't trim his eyebrows, though, you said you were going to ask."

"Oh, yeah, well, I realized I didn't want to ask."

"I see." Matthew kissed his cheek. "Well, come on."

Alfred nodded. Yao opened the doors and stepped into the throne room first, and the brothers followed.

It wasn't the ideal place to hold a wedding, considering the amount of people who wished to attend. But the coronation traditionally _had_ to take place in the throne room, and they had preferred to combine both ceremonies rather than herd the vast audience from one end of the palace to the other. So the guests had to settle for being packed in. Everyone else would have plenty of opportunities to see the new couple.

Alfred smiled at all the friendly faces they passed. Everybody he cared about was there, jammed together but looking thrilled. The other royal couples, of course, and most of the guards, along with quite a few other former soldiers. Mathias looked surprisingly dashing when he was nicely groomed, and Gilbert had the stoic look of a hardened warrior trying to be a manly man and struggling not to cry. Even Peter and some of the other stable boys were there.

At the end of the hallway of bodies, before the thrones, stood the officiant and Arthur. Alfred had been warned ahead of time that Arthur would be wearing his crown for the ceremonies, but it was still an amusing sight to see him wearing that intricate silver... thing on his head. But other than that, he looked amazingly handsome, smiling broadly as he waited.

Matthew delivered Alfred to his groom, then stepped aside, taking his place between Ivan and Francis. Francis casually wrapped an arm around Matthew's shoulder and pulled him close.

And so it began. Matthew had warned Alfred about all the droning words involved in a wedding, especially a big important wedding. Alfred missed most of it, too busy staring at Arthur. He didn't want to think about how their relationship had started, not on their wedding day, but he couldn't help it. In those days he never, _never_ in a million years would have pictured their relationship ending up like this. And while he knew Arthur continued to regret those first months together, Alfred didn't. It had brought them together, after all.

At one point during the man's speech, Yao approached with a small velvet box. He opened it, displaying the pair of golden rings, set with small blue stones. Arthur selected the larger one and placed it onto Alfred's finger.

"Be careful with that," he whispered in a barely audible voice. "It belonged to my father-in-law. The former King of Spades," he added, as if Alfred couldn't make the connection.

"Oh yeah?" Alfred looked down at his ring, then accepted the second one from Yao. "Whose was this?" Arthur just held his hand out, waiting, and Alfred slipped it onto him. He raised his voice slightly, figuring Arthur hadn't heard. "Whose was this one?"

"My mother-in-law's..." Arthur muttered. And though Alfred said nothing, and was pretty sure he didn't let anything show on his face, Arthur still glared briefly at him.

They linked hands, and the speech continued. Alfred tried to pay attention but the flowery metaphors that were meant to evoke mental imagery of two things permanently intertwined, stories of past royal couples of Spades, and what seemed like the history of Spades and its monarchy, kept him from listening for long. Much nicer to just watch Arthur and picture their future together himself. They dutifully repeated what they were supposed to when prompted.

And an eternity later, the officiant announced to the room that Alfred and Arthur were a wedded pair, and they were instructed to kiss. They leaned close to press their lips together in the awkward kiss one performs in front of a large audience.

A large audience that burst into thunderous applause as the couple turned to face them.

"Almost there," Arthur said, squeezing Alfred's hand. "The next part won't be too painful. I get to do it myself, I'll make it short."

"You do?"

"Of course."

They waited for the crowd to settle down before Yao brought out the next bit of jewelry – a crown similar to Arthur's, only bigger. Of course. Alfred was glad they were not actually required to be worn, pretty much only necessary for this particular occasion.

"Thank you," Arthur said, taking the crown from Yao. "Well, this is the part everyone was waiting for, right? We've been waiting years for the perfect King to show up. As the rest of the kingdom got more and more restless waiting for me to remarry and have an heir, I refused to settle, knowing the right person had to be out there. I had no idea I had found him, when I spotted a really cute boy in the stables one day." He smiled at the chuckles from the crowd. "But I watched him try to take care of everyone. He showed compassion to everyone. He showed incredible bravery and selflessness. And I'm rather fond of him." Arthur lifted the crown. "Kneel," he whispered.

"Oh, right." Alfred dropped to one knee.

"Thank you." He settled the crown on Alfred's head. It wasn't as uncomfortable as it looked. "Well, everyone, allow me to present King Alfred of Spades."

Alfred got to his feet, and was almost startled by the reaction. The cheers and applause that had accompanied the conclusion of their wedding was nothing compared to the current wall of sound. He stared at them, on the verge of tears. It was one thing to be repeatedly told everybody would want him to be their King; it was quite another to see it.

The noise gradually died down, but they continued to stare at him. Finally, Arthur nudged him.

"Huh?"

"Say something," Arthur said.

"Oh." Normally never at a loss for words, Alfred gulped as he looked at the huge roomful of expectant faces. He wasn't fond of speeches, as he had discovered when Arthur had given him that medal. "Thanks!" They seemed to find that amusing, and Arthur nudged him. "Oh. Well, yes, thank you, I mean it. I never ever ever pictured anything like this happening, and I'm just... so..." He didn't want to cry in front of so many people! Alfred hoped he wouldn't be in trouble for not pouring his heart out until he had a much smaller audience. "Well, you know." He gave an apologetic smile. "I think my first order as King is for everyone to get out of here and go party. There's food and music in the ball room, you know."

Everyone seemed to like that very brief speech. As the nobles and guards who only sort of knew Alfred piled out, those who were closer to him remained behind to hug and congratulate him.

"I'll meet you there," Matthew said, backing away with Francis. "We see you all the time, we'll let these people have a turn."

In other words, he wanted first crack at the food. Alfred gave him an amused nod before turning to those who wanted to greet him. The first to approach was a group of his fellow soldiers.

"Your Majesty," Mathias said with a flourishing bow. "I think you'll do just fine. Even soldiers who didn't outrank you did what you said, you're a born leader!"

"I didn't," Gilbert said. "Those were some nice things the Queen said about you."

"What, when he was crowning me?" Alfred unconsciously touched the decoration on his head. "Yeah, they were nice."

"It was especially nice of him to say how brave you are, without adding how stupid and foolish you are with your hero complex convincing you it's a good idea to do everything yourself. Even when you were told not to. And nearly getting killed."

"You're never going to let that go..." Alfred said weakly, and Gilbert shook his head. "Will push-ups make you less mad?"

Gilbert considered the offer. "The sight of the King doing push-ups for me might help. But I'll probably never forgive you for running off on your own, sorry."

"Okay..." He turned back to Mathias. "Do I still owe you a beer?"

"Well, yes," Mathias said. "But you're the King now."

"That doesn't mean-"

"The rounds should always be on you from now on."

"Ah." Alfred laughed. It was nice that his friends hadn't changed. "Okay. Beer and push-ups later."

"Much later," Mathias said. He winked in Arthur's direction. "Tonight's gonna be busy."

"Congratulations!" Tino said, hurrying close to hug Alfred. Toris was right behind him.

"Thank you." Alfred grinned at them. "Uh oh. What are you two plotting?"

"Well, Your Majesty," Toris said, "your brother pretty much insisted on giving me a hospital. It needs more than one doctor."

"You're going to Clubs?" Alfred said to Tino, hurt.

"Maybe, maybe... I don't know yet."

"I'll give you a hospital here!"

Tino smiled. "We'll see."

Lili and Ivan came next, hugging Alfred. He had only recently met Lili, but she was the sweetest thing, and she seemed to like everyone. It was hard to picture her married to Francis, even if it wasn't a romantic relationship. But then Alfred wound up with the mental image of her with Ivan, since their husbands were together, and had to stifle a laugh.

"I am glad I was mistaken," Ivan said, patting Alfred's shoulder.

"Me, too." Alfred grinned.

"It will be fun to do business with Spades from now on."

Lili nudged him. "Don't be silly. He'll want to do business with your Queen."

"I can come, too!" Ivan protested.

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, then left to make way for the last royal couple. Alfred had been excited to finally meet them when they arrived a few days earlier. The tall, no-nonsense blond King intimidated him, but his petite Queen (who, judging by his appearance, was either from the same kingdom as Yao, or somewhere nearby) was utterly polite and Alfred liked him.

"Perhaps you could visit us in Hearts soon," King Ludwig said after the usual bowing and congratulations.

"Oh, that would be great!" Visiting his homeland! That did sound appealing.

"Much has changed since you left," Queen Kiku said with a polite smile. "I can show you around."

"I'd like that!"

"And the Queen of Clubs could certainly come, too."

"The Festival of Cups is coming up," Ludwig said. "I've heard that is your birthday?"

Alfred nodded enthusiastically. "I'll ask him, we'd love to be in Hearts for our birthday again!" After they had barely acknowledged their last birthday, another big celebration would definitely be nice.

After a few more congratulations, Alfred and his new husband were finally able to escape. Even Arthur seemed relieved when Yao took their crowns. They headed quickly for the ballroom where the party was underway.

"Nobody's dancing..." Alfred noted, looking around in disapproval. The buffet tables were popular enough, but couples were just chatting as they listened to the music.

"They're waiting for us to start," Arthur said. "Just a quick dance, I don't want you to push it."

"Okay."

"Do you remember our first dance?"

"Sure." Another reminder of their first Festival of Swords. He had been surprised he hadn't fallen on his face, after the very brief amount of time he had had to practice. That had, really, been the night he had started to return Arthur's feelings.

They swept into the dance with considerable more grace than previous attempts. Surrounding couples watched for about five seconds before turning to each other and dancing, themselves. It was a simple dance, considering it had been Alfred's first, but Alfred hoped it looked good anyway.

"So," Arthur murmured, barely heard over the band. "You're my husband."

"Yeah." Alfred kissed him. "And the King."

"Yes, and that." Arthur leaned his head down on Alfred's shoulder. "But that's not as important."

"I really hope this is a good idea. I have no idea what to do now..."

"Dance."

Alfred laughed. "I guess that's a good start."

"You'll be just fine, love."

The song had just barely finished when somebody was politely tapping on Alfred's shoulder. "May I cut in?"

Alfred pulled away from Arthur with a laugh. "Which one of us are you talking to, Mattie?"

Matthew smiled at them both. "Come here. I'll get Arthur next."

"Sorry, Artie." Alfred joined his brother for the next dance. It took a moment for it to occur to him that Matthew was leading, but he didn't say anything.

"Well." Matthew smiled. It had been a few years since his treatment started, and he was Queen of a kingdom, but Alfred still felt a simple thrill at seeing Matthew dance. "I think Mom and Dad might just be proud of us."

"For ruling half the kingdoms? Yeah, they might be a little excited." Alfred grinned, then remembered his news. "Oh! We've been invited to Hearts for the Festival of Cups."

"Really?" Matthew brightened. "That would be great!"

"Yeah? Will you be able to come? Is there enough time?"

"Oh, yes, she's not that far along. I should be fine."

"Good! Have you picked out any names for the future King of Clubs _yet_?"

Matthew shook his head. "Not yet." He eyed Alfred with mock sternness. "I'd _had_ a name for one of our sons picked out, but you had to turn up alive and ruin it."

"You can still name a son after me! Or even a daughter, I don't mind."

Matthew just smiled. "We've all got lost loved ones we want to honor. There's no shortage of names."

"Don't let him name one of your daughters Elizabeta..."

"Al!" Matthew chuckled. "We'll see."

"Do you need to sit?" Alfred asked after a minute or two.

"Do you?"

"No, but let's take a break, anyway. Song's about over."

They stopped near one of the many tables loaded with food. Alfred had to laugh at Matthew's guilty expression when he selected a treat that must not have been his first.

"I work out," Matthew protested. "I don't just sit on my butt on the throne."

"I didn't say anything!" But just to rub it in, Alfred selected a piece of fruit, even if the pastries did look nicer. "Your boyfriend is talking to that buxom woman," he said, glancing over toward Francis.

Matthew nodded. "I'd be more surprised if he wasn't."

"Your husband is talking to my Jack."

"My husband talks to everybody. Now that he's not the scary enemy, he's been trying to make new friends left and right."

"Hey, did you want to get out of here?" Alfred gestured toward Francis again. "You've seen and done all the important stuff..."

"Why thank you." Matthew laughed. "Does this mean you're starting to allow me to actually do things with Francis?"

"Maybe, maybe..."

"Well, I don't think I'd better leave just yet. It would look rude, even with your permission."

"I guess so."

Their break did not last long; soon a small legion of friends and random nobles were waiting to dance with the brothers, and they let themselves be whisked back onto the dance floor. It was a considerable amount of time before Alfred was returned to Arthur, who had just finished a dance with a giggling noblewoman.

"So how long is it polite to stay here?" Alfred asked quietly.

"It's our wedding party, and your coronation party, Al. A bit longer than this."

Alfred nodded in resignation. "We've made it this long, I guess..."

It was an hour or so of mingling and eating before Ivan wandered over to Alfred. "Hello."

"Hey, big guy." Alfred clapped him on the shoulder.

Ivan blinked. "Big guy...?" He shrugged. "I think I will retire soon."

"Sure, that's fine." If other royalty were ready to retire, maybe Alfred could soon as well.

"Have you seen my husband?"

Alfred looked around. "Not for a while." He also couldn't find Francis. "I wouldn't worry."

"Okay." Ivan looked around, too. "People here are nice. They don't even mention that I... you know..."

"Invaded?" Alfred said. "Yeah, they seem to be a forgiving bunch once we're allies." He hadn't heard a peep about Matthew's treason, arrest and banishment since it actually happened. He wasn't sure if it was because of Matthew's hero status as a spy, his status as a Queen, or their alliance with Diamonds. Probably all of the above.

"That's good. I like making friends this way, better."

"Me, too."

"Well, good night." Ivan returned Alfred's earlier favor and gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder before turning to leave. With nobody currently clamoring for his attention, Alfred hurried back to Arthur.

"Okay. Matt's gone, Francis is gone, and now Ivan is gone, too. Is it safe for us to leave yet?"

Arthur swept his gaze around the ballroom one last time. "I think we have waited long enough."

"Oh thank the gods." Alfred took Arthur's hand and weaved as quickly as possible through the crowd. Various nobles tried to stop him to chat, but the royal couple pleaded weariness. The usual reaction was a knowing look or a wink. While it had been a fun night, it was with relief when they left the stuffy room behind, taking deep breaths when they reached the hallway.

"Well," Arthur said. "Only one task left."

"Yeah." Alfred grinned at him, then swept Arthur into his arms. "To our bedroom!" he declared, then headed off in that direction.

Arthur went stiff in his arms. "Alfred, put me down."

"Oh, come on, it's ro-"

"Put me down _now_ , Alfred, I mean it!"

Alfred blinked. "Okay..." He let Arthur slide to the ground, a little hurt.

"You idiot!" To Alfred's relief, there was no anger, only concern in his green eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!"

"Don't do things like that."

Alfred smiled and took Arthur's hand again. "Fine. I won't carry you until after everyone's convinced that I'm healed."

"That will do."

They walked to their bedroom, passing the occasional guard that had been forced to stick to his duties rather than attend the party. They all grinned. The ones nearest the bedroom opened the doors for them. Alfred just shook his head in amusement at everyone always knowing when they were having sex.

Their bedroom had been set up for the occasion, with flickering candles covering every available surface and what looked suspiciously like flower petals on the bed. The blankets were even pulled down for them already.

Arthur was shedding clothes almost as soon as the door was on the latch, tossing them aside for servants to deal with in the morning. Alfred swallowed as he watched, realizing how long it had been since he had seen that pale, small but strong body. He reached out to place his sun-darkened hand on Arthur's chest, just as he had the first time they disrobed together. Arthur grinned at him.

"Your turn, I think."

"Oh. Yeah..."

Arthur's smile fell at his hesitation. "What? Don't tell me you're shy all of a sudden, you used to be the first one naked."

"Of course not," Alfred scoffed, fumbling with the buttons of his jacket. Arthur reached over to help him and Alfred backed away.

Arthur stared at him in surprise, but his expression quickly softened. "Al..."

"What?" Alfred gave him a lopsided smile. "It's been a while, I'm just excited."

"Don't." Arthur swatted his hands aside and unbuttoned the jacket. "I haven't seen you naked since before the war. Except that one time, and you were all bandaged. Right?" His own smile returned. "I don't care about a few scars, Al."

"That's not it," Alfred said. "I'm not that vain..."

"Yes you are. I don't think you ate that whole week after I made the mistake of commenting on your weight that one time."

"That's not true..."

Arthur finished stripping him to the waist, running his hands over Alfred's torso. "You're so sexy. Remember the underfed little thing you were when we met? Now the servants could use your abs to wash the clothes."

"I wouldn't say little." Alfred hadn't realized he had been backed to the bed until his legs ran into it and he sat down heavily, petals taking flight. Arthur leaned over to kiss him, slow and deep, still tracing his hands over Alfred's muscles, over the lines of his scars.

"It just reminds me of how brave you are," Arthur said. "That's sexier than unmarked skin any day." He smirked slightly. "It's getting warmer out, you should start walking around shirtless. Then everyone will remember how brave you are." He paused. "As long as we leave out the part where you were bloody stupid running off against orders and nearly getting yourself killed."

"Oh, you too?" Alfred groaned. "Gilbert's never gonna let me hear the end of that, either."

"Good." Arthur tugged Alfred's pants off and kissed him again, pressing Alfred back until he was laying on the bed, Arthur sprawled atop him.

"Hey." Alfred chuckled, smoothing his hands down his husband's sides. "About that tradition..."

"There's no tradition or rule regarding foreplay." Arthur lowered his head to suckle on Alfred's pulse.

"Ah." Alfred's eyes slid shut. "Maybe we can do that afterward?" Just what he needed was to bring some sort of horrible curse down on the kingdom because he came before he was supposed to.

"Then it wouldn't be foreplay."

"Postplay, then." Alfred tightened his grip on Arthur and rolled them over. He smiled down at Arthur. As much as Alfred liked to be the one being fucked, there was something to be said about one's lover lying sprawled underneath oneself.

"Whatever my King wishes," Arthur murmured. "Taking your job seriously..."

"Of course." Alfred kissed Arthur, grabbing the jar of oil off the nightstand, pausing to steady a candle he had bumped into. The ambiance was nice, but it didn't seem safe... Arthur spread his legs and Alfred gently worked the oil into him, already reducing him to a moaning mess. "Remember when it seemed like every time we had sex, it was our first time somehow? Now it's our first time as a married couple. And next time will be the first time you do me as a married couple."

"Al," Arthur gasped. "If you aren't doing me in the next ten seconds..."

Alfred laughed, remembering that he had said those exact words the last time they had been together. He kissed Arthur again and slid slowly into him, resisting the urge to just plow into him so as not to hurt him. Arthur groaned and gasped and wrapped his limbs around Alfred, panting instructions.

Alfred moved, and quickly learned that upholding traditions would be harder than he had anticipated. It took all of his willpower to just remain on top of Arthur and thrust, rather than roll them around, or pull Arthur onto his lap to ride him, or _something_. He started to helplessly laugh again, and Arthur joined him breathlessly, even though he had no idea what was funny. They were just purely happy.

Their frenzied movements soon settled into a rhythmic pace. Alfred couldn't get enough of Arthur's kisses, tasting his lips every chance he got. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Arthur said. "So much. Ah, gods..."

Alfred grinned, thrusting harder at his husband's recommendation. He wanted it to last, but all too soon he was shaking and moaning in the throes of passion, and it only took a bit more encouragement for Arthur to join him.

They collapsed together in a sweaty, happy heap on the bed. Arthur enfolded Alfred in his arms. There were, Alfred realized, flower petals sticking to them.

Arthur stroked his fingers through Alfred's damp hair. "Well. That's taken care of."

"I hope more of my jobs as King are like that," Alfred said with a grin.

"Mm." Arthur held him tighter. He was doing a lot of that lately, he had become considerably more touchy-feely since finding Alfred alive. He could understand; if he had thought Arthur was dead for months, he wouldn't let him go ever again, either.

"I love you," Alfred said again as a peaceful sleepiness fell over him.

"I love you, too, Al."

* * *

Clad only in a loosely tied robe, Arthur strolled through the dark, silent halls, smiling even though there was nobody around to see it. There were guards around, of course, but he didn't see them as he walked. They had agreed to meet in the throne room.

Arthur paused at the sight of a lone figure standing before a large window, seemingly lost in thought. He altered course and joined the other man, not saying anything.

"Have fun?" Francis said in a low voice.

"Of course."

"You lasted longer than I thought."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Are you insulting our stamina?"

Francis smirked. "Yes. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Well, I could say the same about you."

"I know..." Francis heaved a dramatic sigh. "We've been talking about... opening our relationship, since we must be apart so much."

Arthur blinked. Francis he could believe, but Matthew? "Seriously?"

"Just the physical aspect, we're only human. We won't have _relationship_ relationships on the side." His expression grew melancholy. "I hope."

"Well, whatever helps you guys." Arthur's lips curved. "Anyone's who's stuck with _you_ this long isn't going to go running to someone else. He's beyond saving by now."

Francis chuckled. "Thanks, I think. Well, are you glad that all of that is over?" He gestured vaguely in the direction of the throne room.

"No, I love wedding preparation..." Arthur snorted. Especially hurried ones, they had wasted no time. "Very glad."

"We knew this day was coming. It's nice that it got to be with somebody you're a little fond of."

Arthur nodded absently. He had dreaded knowing he had to someday marry, while thinking Alfred was gone. Hell, he hadn't been too fond of the idea before, when Alfred was his lover and the only available choices were noble idiots. He never would have dreamed he would be able to make it work with Al.

"And whatever are we going to do with all this peace?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm still dealing with the aftereffects of a rather nasty invasion."

Francis winced. "Well, yes. But this is still the most peace we've had in the kingdoms in a very long time. Which, I suppose, is partially our fault..."

"Mm." Arthur had to smile. "Yes, this will be interesting. The soldiers will get fat..."

"Oh, we'll find something for our soldiers to do."

"So what are you doing here at this hour?"

Francis shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. You?"

"I was on my way to the throne room."

"Work?" He blinked. "At this hour?"

"Yes," Arthur said with a smirk.

"Ah." Abruptly, Francis hugged him. "Congratulations," he murmured.

"Oh. Thanks," Arthur said, too surprised to even hug him back before Francis stepped away.

"I'm glad everything worked out for you."

"Thank you," Arthur said again. What else could he say? Things hadn't exactly worked out for Francis, no matter how happy he said he was for Matthew. But that was life, he supposed. They were just lucky both twins _had_ defied the odds and survived the war. And it was a good life for Matthew...

"Hey, what are you guys talking about?"

Arthur turned to find himself confronted by the King of Spades and Queen of Clubs. "Nothing in particular." Matthew moved to Francis' side. Arthur was pretty sure, anyway; in the dark, with their matching night shirts and mussed up hair, it was kind of hard to tell.

Francis tugged Matthew close to wrap an arm around him. "We were talking about how, now that our kingdoms are getting along so well, we're running away together."

"Ha." Matthew kissed him, so that had to be him.

"So look at us," Alfred said, "one big happy family." He kissed Arthur's cheek. "Me and Mattie are going to Hearts. Did I tell you that?"

"No, you didn't. For the Festival?"

"Yeah!"

"That's a good idea." He knew the twins would have a hard time letting go. It would be nice for them to have one last adventure together before they had to get to their own lives. Spades had waited this long for its King, it could wait a little longer.

"We should do this," Francis said. "Get together, all four of us. If we go six months without seeing each other for some official business or special occasion, we should take turns visiting each other's kingdoms just to see each other."

"That might be a little unrealistic," Arthur said, much as he liked the idea. "But we'll see what we can do."

"Or just meet in Spades, since they're in the middle," Francis mused, as if he hadn't heard Arthur. "But then it's not fair that you two never have to travel. But on the other hand, you're the only kingdom where both of the royal couple would have to-"

"Okay," Matthew said, nudging him.

Francis shrugged. "I think it's a good idea. Well, you two, you said you had business to attend to in the throne room?"

Matthew eyed them. "At this hour?"

Alfred nodded. "Important business. I'll see you in the morning, Mattie, we'll get ready for our trip!"

"Okay," Matthew said. Francis leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Matthew giggled. "Of course."

After bidding each other good night, Francis and Matthew headed for their room. Alfred turned toward the throne room, but Arthur tugged him back, holding him close as he looked out the window. Alfred whined slightly as their fun was further postponed – Arthur had created a monster, really – but soon he was leaning into Arthur and looking outside.

"So that's our kingdom," Alfred said in a low voice.

Arthur nodded. "That's it."

"I just hope that-"

"Don't." Arthur gave him a squeeze. "No more worrying. You'll be fine. And whatever happens, happens."

Alfred laughed softly. "I know. It will be an adventure."

"Yes, an adventure." Arthur leaned his head on Alfred's shoulder, watching the stars twinkle over the sleeping capital city. "That it will be."

The King and Queen of Spades did not make it to the throne room that night. Instead, they held each other and watched the sun rise over their kingdom.


End file.
